Chereads / Spaceman Sam / Chapter 17 - Chapter 17: Echoes of the Past

Chapter 17 - Chapter 17: Echoes of the Past

The Star Chaser floated in the cold silence of space, its hull bruised but holding together. The hum of the engines settled into a quiet drone, a reprieve from the chaos they had just escaped. But inside the ship, the tension hadn't dissipated. Sam knew the crew was holding their breath, waiting for answers.

He stood at the helm, hands gripping the console, eyes trained on the star-speckled void ahead. They needed a new plan. Running blindly through the galaxy wasn't going to cut it anymore.

Behind him, Lumen sat cross-legged on the floor, her knees drawn close to her chest. She looked small, fragile even, a strange contrast to the bright energy she used to emanate. There was something off about her—a flicker of uncertainty in her gaze.

Sam approached slowly, his boots thudding softly on the metal floor. "You good to talk, Lumen?" he asked, his voice low, without demanding too much.

She didn't look up immediately, just traced invisible patterns on the floor with her finger. "It's... complicated," she murmured, her tone heavy with exhaustion.

Nova hovered nearby, her light dimmed to a soft glow. "We're all kind of out of time for complicated."

"Nova," Sam warned, but she just shrugged, floating closer to sit cross-legged in the air.

Lumen gave a faint, almost bitter laugh. "She's right. You deserve some answers." She tilted her head up, her silver-blue hair slipping off her shoulder like strands of stardust. "But the problem is, I don't have all of them."

Memories Tangled in the Veil

"Start with what you remember," Sam said, crouching down beside her.

Lumen exhaled, closing her eyes. "The last thing I remember clearly... I was back on Lumenara, my home star—before The Council of Shadows started closing in. There was a... pull. Like a voice calling from across the galaxy, something I couldn't resist."

Her voice faltered for a moment, and Sam could see the struggle in her expression, like she was trying to piece together fragments of a broken mirror. "Next thing I knew, I was trapped in that stasis pod. I... don't know how long I've been drifting."

"Who put you in the pod?" Kian asked from the doorway, his mechanical toolkit slung over his shoulder. "Was it the Council?"

Lumen shook her head slowly. "It didn't feel like them. This was something older. Something..." She paused, her brows furrowing. "Something that didn't belong in this universe."

Nova's glow dimmed further. "You think it's connected to that... thing we just escaped?"

Lumen nodded, her expression darkening. "It called to me. I don't know why, but it wanted me there—trapped. I think it feeds off memories, emotions... everything that makes us who we are."

A heavy silence fell over the room. Sam's thoughts raced. He could feel the pieces falling into place, but the picture they formed was still incomplete—and it didn't look good.

The Crew in Fractures

"That explains why it fought so hard to keep us," Lila murmured, her voice unusually quiet. She sat at the edge of the control console, brushing a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear. "If that thing feeds off memories, it's not just hunting us. It's hunting everything."

Kian ran a hand through his tousled hair, muttering a curse under his breath. "Great. So, we escaped the cosmic nightmare—but it's still out there, waiting to take another bite out of us. What's the next move, Captain?"

Sam's jaw tightened at the word "Captain." He wasn't sure if Kian meant it sarcastically, but it stuck. The crew had made it through by the skin of their teeth, but the fractures were showing. They needed more than just survival—they needed direction.

He looked around at the crew: Nova's light was flickering with agitation, Kian's hands twitched, restless as ever, and Lila's dark eyes were scanning every corner of the ship, lost in her own thoughts. Lumen, the reason they had ventured this far, sat in front of him—broken but not defeated.

They were a mess, but they were still his crew.

"We need to regroup," Sam said finally, standing tall. "Get Lumen up to speed and figure out what this thing wants. But first, we're heading somewhere safe."

"Where exactly is that?" Kian shot him a skeptical look. "Because I don't think safe exists anymore."

Sam didn't answer immediately. His mind drifted back to an old star map, one he hadn't looked at in years—back before the war, before everything fell apart. There was a place he once heard about, tucked deep in the edges of the cosmic wilderness. The Ruined Starfields, a pocket of the galaxy where time bent in strange ways.

If they could reach it, they might have a chance to regroup—and maybe even hide from the beast lurking behind them.

The Chase Begins Again

Just as Sam opened his mouth to speak, the alarms screamed to life—blaring through the ship like a warning from the cosmos itself.

Nova darted toward the control panel, her light flickering wildly. "We've got a problem. It's back."

Sam spun to the viewport, and his stomach dropped. Outside, the black mist from the Veil began to coalesce, twisting and curling like a serpent. The creature was tracking them through the folds of space.

"Everyone, to your stations! Kian, get those engines burning—now!"

Kian was already at the helm, fingers flying across the console. The ship groaned as the engines roared to life, pushing the Star Chaser to its limits.

"Sam!" Nova's voice crackled with panic. "The tendrils are locking onto us again!"

Sam grabbed the Void Reaver from where it rested near the door. He could feel the familiar weight in his hands, the hum of its magic resonating through his bones. This weapon wasn't just a blade—it was a promise. A promise to protect the ones he cared about, no matter what it cost him.

The Pursuit Through the Ruined Starfields

The Star Chaser rocketed forward, cutting through the star-speckled void with a sharp, urgent grace. But the creature wasn't far behind. Its tendrils reached through the fabric of space, clawing toward them like hungry shadows.

Kian gritted his teeth, pushing the engines to their breaking point. "We're not gonna outrun this thing!"

Sam's mind raced. The Void Reaver pulsed with cosmic magic, almost as if it was urging him to act. "We don't need to outrun it," he said. "We just need to hold it off long enough to reach the Ruined Starfields."

"And how exactly do we do that?" Lila asked, her voice tight with fear.

Sam turned, gripping the sword's hilt with both hands. "I'll buy us the time we need."

Before anyone could argue, Sam dashed toward the ship's rear airlock. The tendrils were already clawing at the hull, wrapping around the ship like a constrictor squeezing the life out of its prey.

A Last Stand Among the Stars

With a hiss, the airlock opened, and Sam stepped into the void—his sword crackling with cosmic energy. He could feel the pull of the Veil, the creature's presence pressing in on him from all sides.

The Void Reaver glowed brighter than ever, the cosmic magic within it responding to Sam's will. He raised the blade high, the stars themselves reflected in its edge, and slashed downward with everything he had.

Tendrils shattered like brittle glass, the beast roaring in fury as it recoiled. Sam stood his ground, alone in the void, cutting through the darkness with every swing. The creature lashed back, but Sam was faster—fueled by sheer will and the need to protect his crew.

And in the distance, the Star Chaser soared toward the Ruined Starfields, leaving the nightmare behind... but only for now.

The Star Chaser's engines cooled with a low hum, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, silence filled the ship. They had barely escaped the monster from the Veil, and everyone was running on fumes—mentally and physically. Sam needed somewhere to lay low, even if just for a while, somewhere off the grid.

That somewhere was The Nexus Drift—an intergalactic black market and bar buried in the heart of a forgotten asteroid belt. It was a haven for smugglers, mercenaries, exiles, and traders, a place where questions went unasked, credits spoke louder than words, and no one cared who you were as long as you didn't start a fight.

The ship docked at one of the massive platforms, neon lights flickering across the battered hull. Sam powered down the engines, leaning back in his seat and rubbing his temples. It wasn't much, but it was a breather.

He could feel the tension in his crew—too many unanswered questions, too many close calls. They needed to unwind before something inside them snapped.

Arrival at the Nexus Drift

When the crew stepped off the Star Chaser and onto the station, a wave of noise, neon lights, and chaos engulfed them. Massive signs in alien languages flickered, advertising everything from exotic weapons to questionable medical procedures. Species of all shapes and sizes roamed the crowded streets, their eyes glinting under the glow of artificial moons.

"Home sweet home," Kian muttered, his eyes scanning the crowd. He looked more comfortable here than anywhere else they'd been. This kind of place—grimy and chaotic—was where he thrived. He pulled his hood up and tucked a wrench into his belt. "Try not to get robbed, yeah?"

Sam shot him a tired look but said nothing. He knew Kian could navigate the underworld like a second language—that skill would come in handy.

"Where are we even going?" Nova asked, floating slightly above the ground. Her light had returned, flickering playfully in the dimness, but there was still a trace of unease in her expression. She kept glancing over her shoulder, as if expecting the monster from the Veil to reappear at any moment.

Sam led the way through the narrow streets. "We're heading to the Neon Mirage. It's a bar. The kind where nobody cares what you've done or what you're running from."

"Sounds charming," Lila muttered, adjusting the strap on her shoulder. The scholar from an ancient world had never quite adjusted to these kinds of places, but there was a quiet curiosity in her gaze as she observed the alien cultures around her.

The Neon Mirage

They found the Neon Mirage tucked into the corner of a shadowy alley, its entrance framed by flickering green and violet lights. A bouncer with four eyes and scaly skin glanced at them lazily but waved them in after Sam tossed him a few credits.

Inside, the air was thick with smoke and electric music thrummed through the walls. Holograms danced on tables, and creatures of every imaginable shape crowded the bar. Some were humanoid, others serpentine, and a few defied description altogether.

Sam and the crew slid into a booth near the back, away from prying eyes. A translucent bartender with glowing veins floated over, and Sam ordered drinks for everyone—something strong but not too strong. They couldn't afford to let their guard down completely.

Nova leaned back, swirling a glass of luminous liquid. "Well, this is... an experience."

"Isn't it always?" Kian grinned, already halfway through his drink. His usual sarcasm was back, but Sam could tell it was a front—Kian had nearly gotten killed back in the Veil, and it was gnawing at him more than he'd admit.

"You alright, Kian?" Sam asked, knowing the answer but asking anyway.

Kian shrugged, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "You know me, Cap. I bounce back." His grin didn't reach his eyes, and his hands fidgeted with the drink's glass, spinning it absentmindedly.

Lila leaned forward, her dark eyes narrowing. "You don't have to pretend you're fine," she said quietly. "None of us are."

For a moment, Kian looked like he was going to argue, but then he slumped back in his seat, exhaling deeply. "Yeah. Almost dying kinda takes it out of you."

Sam gave him a small nod. "You did good back there. We all did." He looked around the table, meeting each of their gazes in turn. They'd made it through hell together, and for better or worse, they were still standing.

Lumen's Silence

While the others bantered and tried to unwind, Lumen remained unusually quiet, sipping her drink in small, deliberate sips. Her gaze was distant, her thoughts clearly miles away.

"You good, Lumen?" Sam asked, tilting his head slightly.

She blinked, as if snapping out of a trance. "Yeah. Just... thinking."

"About what?" Nova asked, her glowing eyes flickering with curiosity.

Lumen hesitated. "About the Veil. And that thing." She set her drink down slowly, fingers tapping the table. "I think it's not done with us yet."

The table went silent for a moment. Even in the noisy bar, the weight of her words hung between them.

"You think it's following us?" Lila asked, her voice carefully measured.

Lumen gave a slow, uncertain nod. "I don't know how, but I can feel it. It's... waiting. Watching."

Nova shivered, her light dimming slightly. "Great. Just what I needed—something worse than cosmic existential dread."

A Reminder of the Past

As the conversation drifted, Sam's thoughts pulled him back to the Void Reaver—the sword resting quietly on his back. He had carried it for years, ever since the war, and yet he rarely used it. Not unless things got desperate.

He remembered the first time he had wielded it, back when he was younger and more reckless. The weapon had been forged from fragments of a dying star, infused with cosmic energy by an old mentor he barely remembered. "A sword like this," the mentor had told him, "is not just a weapon. It's a reminder. Of who you are. And what you're fighting for."

For years, Sam had tried to leave that part of himself behind, burying the sword in the depths of the ship and hoping he'd never have to use it again. But the universe had other plans. Now, the weight of it felt heavier than ever, as if the blade knew it would be needed soon.

He tapped his glass, lost in thought. The monster in the Veil wasn't going to stop hunting them—of that, Sam was sure. And when it came down to it, the sword might be the only thing standing between the crew and annihilation.

A Warning from the Shadows

Before anyone could say more, the door to the Neon Mirage hissed open, and the room went still. Sam turned to see a group of figures enter—Council agents, dressed in dark, segmented armor.

"Stay cool," Sam whispered to the crew. He recognized the Council's mark on their armor—they were looking for someone. And he had a sinking feeling it might be them.

The lead agent scanned the room slowly, his helmet reflecting the neon lights. Then his gaze locked onto Sam—and didn't move.

Sam's hand drifted toward the hilt of his sword, heart pounding in his chest. The past they were trying to outrun had just caught up with them.

"Time to go," Kian muttered under his breath.

Sam stood slowly, the others following his lead. They'd had their moment of peace. Now it was back to the chase.

The crew found themselves in the upper levels of the Nexus Drift, tucked away in a quiet, dimly lit hotel that overlooked the chaotic bazaar below. The hum of the station's machinery formed a background lull, and neon lights pulsed faintly through the windows, creating shifting patterns across the walls. For the first time in a long while, the Star Chaser's crew could breathe. No monsters, no Council agents, no cosmic storms chasing them down.

Sam sank into a deep armchair, exhaling slowly. The tension that had been knotted in his muscles for days finally started to loosen. They'd fought hard to get here—and harder to stay alive.

Unwinding at Last

Kian had already sprawled on one of the room's low couches, boots kicked off and a bottle of alien liquor in his hand. He held it up to the light, watching the glowing blue liquid swirl inside. "Can't believe we made it out of that mess. Feels like I should still be running."

Sam gave a tired laugh. "That's the point, Kian. No running. Not for now."

Kian grinned. "Right. So, the only thing left to do is get ridiculously drunk, yeah?" He popped the bottle open and took a long swig, his shoulders finally relaxing.

Nova hovered nearby, her soft light casting a soothing glow over the room. She perched herself on the window ledge, resting her chin in her hands. "I always forget how different stations like this feel... so packed with noise and life, like stars in a tight orbit."

"You don't like it?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nova gave him a half-smile. "Not exactly. But I can see why you all do. It's messy. Beautiful, in a way." She stretched her legs out, her form flickering for a moment like a shooting star. "Still, I think I'll stick to floating."

Lila, seated cross-legged on a cushion, sipped quietly from a dark glass. "It's strange," she murmured. "After everything we've been through, this almost feels... too normal. Like it's all going to slip away the second we let our guard down."

Sam glanced at her. Lila had always been the cautious one, the scholar burdened with the knowledge of long-dead civilizations and forgotten dangers. But even she seemed lighter here—her usual tension subdued, if only just.

"You think too much," Kian said, raising his bottle toward her in a mock toast. "Come on, Lila. If we're all gonna die anyway, might as well enjoy a little peace while we can."

Lila rolled her eyes, but there was the hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. "You're impossible."

They stayed like that for a while—drinking, laughing, letting the weight of the past few days dissolve into the haze of the evening. Sam leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting across his crew. For once, they weren't just fighters or survivors—they were people. Flawed, complicated, and unexpectedly close despite the miles of space that had separated their lives before the Star Chaser.

Nova floated beside Lumen, the two exchanging quiet words in a language of light and flickers. Nova's glow dimmed occasionally as they talked—subtle bursts of emotion she rarely showed so openly. There was something grounding about Lumen's presence, as if the gravity between them kept Nova steady.

Lila and Kian had drifted off to a side corner, their conversation playful and teasing. They shared a familiarity that only came from being forced to rely on each other when everything else was falling apart. Kian's grin never quite faded, but there was a gentleness in the way he spoke with her—like he knew exactly how far to push and when to pull back.

Sam's Thoughts

Sam let his head fall back against the wall, staring up at the faint hum of the ceiling's vents. He knew nights like this were rare. Too rare.

He reached for the bottle in Kian's hand, and the engineer handed it over without complaint. Sam took a swig, letting the burning liquid settle in his chest.

In the quiet moments, the weight of the sword on his back felt heavier. It was always there, a reminder of what lay ahead. He had taken an oath—long ago, in another life—to protect what mattered. But more and more, that sense of duty felt like a chain rather than a calling.

What mattered now was his crew. They weren't just a group of misfits thrown together by circumstance—they were the only thing standing between him and the darkness creeping in from the edges of space. He could feel it gnawing at the back of his mind: the monster they had escaped, the tendrils of the Council's grip tightening around them. Peace wasn't something they could afford to keep for long.

Sam sighed. Every moment of peace felt borrowed, stolen from the chaos waiting to catch up with them.

Later, the crew split off to their rooms. The quarters were small and dimly lit, but it didn't matter. For the first time in days, the Star Chaser's crew could rest without fear of what waited around the corner.

Sam sat on the edge of his bed, the faint glow of the station's neon bleeding through the window. His sword leaned against the wall, its jagged edges gleaming in the low light. He ran a hand over the hilt, feeling the cool metal beneath his fingers.

There was something almost comforting in its presence—like it was the one constant in a universe of shifting stars and unpredictable dangers. But he hated that he needed it. He hated that the life he had tried to leave behind had come crashing back into the present.

Nova's soft knock pulled him from his thoughts. She peeked through the door, her glow gentle in the dark room. "Mind if I sit?" she asked.

Sam nodded, and Nova drifted in, settling beside him on the bed. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the silence between them as comfortable as it was fragile.

"You ever think about how things might've been?" Nova asked, her voice soft.

Sam gave a small, tired laugh. "Every day."

Nova smiled, resting her chin on her knees. Her light shimmered faintly, reflecting off the sword's blade. "Maybe we'll get there," she said, almost like a wish. "Somewhere better."

Sam glanced at her, and for a brief moment, the weight on his shoulders felt a little lighter. "Maybe."

And in that quiet room, surrounded by the distant hum of the station and the tangled chaos of their lives, they found a brief moment of stillness.

It wouldn't last—but for now, it was enough.

The room's dim lighting softened the sharp lines of Nova's face as she sat beside Sam. Her soft glow pulsed rhythmically, a quiet reminder of the otherworldly nature that defined her. But here, in the closeness of this room, she didn't feel distant or incomprehensible—she felt present, near enough that Sam could catch the faint scent of ozone and starlight that clung to her, like the memory of a meteor's tail across the night sky.

Nova's fingers traced aimlessly along her knees, the glowing tips brushing her skin in patterns that reminded Sam of constellations. It was a small movement, but the room felt charged with unspoken energy, as if one wrong word would crack the delicate moment wide open.

"So," she said, glancing sidelong at him, her voice low but deliberate. "How long were you going to keep hiding that sword of yours?"

Sam chuckled under his breath. "Until I had no choice." He leaned back on his elbows, the faint tension in his body only half-disguised by his relaxed posture. "Didn't think I'd need it again. Guess that was wishful thinking."

Nova's gaze dropped to the weapon resting against the wall. The blade shimmered faintly, an eerie, iridescent gleam catching the neon light from outside. "It's more than just a weapon, isn't it?"

Sam's jaw tightened. It always came back to the sword—this old ghost from his past that refused to stay buried.

"It was part of me before... all this," he said, gesturing vaguely toward the window, the ship, the stars beyond. "Back then, it was easier to believe in things like loyalty. Honor. Thought I'd lay it down for good."

Nova tilted her head, her hair falling lightly over one shoulder like strands of cosmic silk. "And yet, here it is. Waiting." Her voice was soft, but there was something sharp beneath it, like she could see past the defenses Sam had built and was waiting patiently for him to let them drop.

Sam laughed, a little bitterly. "You've got a way of getting under my skin, you know that?"

Nova leaned in just a fraction—close enough that Sam could feel the warmth radiating from her, like sunlight breaking through cold space. Her light flickered subtly, a rhythm that matched the way Sam's pulse had begun to quicken.

"And you've got a way of pretending you're untouchable," she murmured, her voice low and playful, but tinged with something deeper.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "I thought that was your thing."

Nova smiled, the corners of her mouth curling in that knowing way of hers. "Maybe," she said, her voice a shade quieter, more intimate. "But it doesn't mean I don't notice when someone's pretending."

Sam exhaled slowly. It wasn't just what she was saying—it was how she was saying it. Like she saw the cracks in him, the parts that even he didn't want to admit were there, and somehow it didn't scare her off.

For a moment, the space between them felt electric, like the calm just before a storm. The hum of the station outside faded into the background, and all that was left was the closeness of Nova beside him, her light casting faint, shifting patterns on the wall.

Sam's hand drifted slightly toward hers, almost without thinking. His fingertips brushed her knuckles—just barely, but enough to make him aware of how sharp the line was between hesitation and something more.

Nova didn't pull away. If anything, her glow seemed to soften, as though she was waiting for him to close the distance.

"You ever wonder," she whispered, "if we've been running so long, we forgot how to stop?"

Sam gave a quiet laugh, but it was more tired than amused. "Stopping isn't really an option for us."

Nova leaned a little closer, her breath warm against his skin. "Maybe not. But that doesn't mean we can't slow down... just for a little while."

Sam's heart beat harder in his chest, the line between caution and desire growing thinner by the second. It was rare to find moments like this—moments that weren't dictated by fear, survival, or the weight of the mission hanging over them.

For just a second, he let himself imagine what it would be like to lean in. To let his guard down, even if only briefly.

But the thought carried its own kind of danger—a different kind of vulnerability, one that was harder to fight with a sword or a strategy.

He wanted to let go, but part of him knew that with people like them, nothing was ever simple. They were both creatures of the stars, in one way or another—bright, burning things that could only get close for so long before they risked consuming each other.

"Sam..." Nova's voice was barely above a whisper, her hand shifting slightly, fingertips brushing his.

He swallowed hard, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like the gravity of a collapsing star. There was a choice here, unspoken but undeniable—and whatever he chose, it would change things.

Nova's glow flickered slightly, like a question hanging in the air between them.

Sam pulled back, just slightly—enough to create space, enough to breathe.

Nova didn't seem surprised. Her smile was small, a little sad, but understanding. "Still playing it safe, huh?"

Sam ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "Something like that."

Nova gave him a playful nudge with her shoulder, her light flickering warmly. "It's okay. I get it."

For a moment, they just sat there, side by side in the dim room, the tension still lingering but softened by the ease of their companionship.

Sam shook his head with a wry grin. "You make it really hard to stick to the plan, you know that?"

Nova laughed, a soft, melodic sound that seemed to chase away the last of the lingering tension. "That's what I'm here for."

The moment passed, and they both knew it. The unspoken tension eased, slipping away like stardust caught in the drift.

Sam reached for the bottle again, taking a long drink before offering it to Nova. "Here's to running. And to stopping, whenever we figure out how to."

Nova took the bottle with a smile, her glow warming the room once more. "I'll drink to that."

And in the quiet that followed, they sat together, not quite leaning in, but not quite pulling away either—balanced on the edge of something that could be, but didn't have to be.

For now, it was enough. And in a universe as chaotic and unpredictable as theirs, that was more than they could ask for.