We Found a Spaceship That Vanished. Something was Still Alive Inside.

I stared at the mission brief on my tablet, scrolling back to the top to make sure I'd read it correctly. The Persephone. After 32 years, the damn thing had just reappeared. This can't be right, I muttered to myself, alone in my quarters aboard the Hermes. I've been fresh out of flight school when it happened.

The disappearance of the Persephone nearly tanked NASA's deep space program entirely. Congress held hearings, funding dried up, careers ended. And now, according to this report, the ship had simply shown up again, intact, on the far side of Saturn's rings. I rubbed my eyes and checked the timestamp on the transmission from Mission Control.

Six hours ago, they'd had confirmation for less than a day. The report included the initial scan data, power signatures, structural integrity readings, and orbital parameters. Everything looked normal. Too normal for a ship that should have been floating dead in space for over 3 decades. I pulled up the crew manifest from the original mission, 8 scientists and engineers, all presumed dead since 2041.

I remembered their faces from the memorial service, the endless questions from the press, the conspiracy theories that followed. A soft chime from my Comm unit broke my concentration. Commander Barr, you requested a reminder for the 1400 briefing. Came the ship's automated voice. Thanks.

I said, standing up and straightening my uniform. I tucked the tablet under my arm and headed for the briefing room. The corridors of the Hermes were quiet, most of the crew busy at their stations as we maintained our position in Saturn's orbit. I nodded to a few crew members as I passed, but my mind was elsewhere, still processing what we've been asked to do.

When I reached the briefing room, my team was already waiting. Doctor Eliana Peters sat with perfect posture at the table, her Auburn hair pulled back in its usual tight ponytail. She was reviewing data on her own tablet, her blue eyes focused behind her lightweight glasses. As our chief scientist, she'd be essential to understanding whatever we found aboard the Persephone.

Kyle Russell paced near the viewport, his dark beard neatly trimmed as always. He stopped when I entered, his brown eyes questioning. As our systems engineer, he'd be responsible for interfacing with the Persephone's technology if any of it still worked. Benny Robinson, our young navigation specialist, sat with his feet up on a chair, but quickly put them down when he saw me.

His enthusiasm was usually infectious, but today his expression was serious, amber eyes wide with curiosity. Take your seats, I said, connecting my tablet to the room's main display. The Persephone schematics appeared on screen. I assume you've all received the preliminary report? Is this for real, Commander?

Benny asked, leaning forward. The Persephone just came back. That's what we're going to find out, I said. I pulled up the last known images of the ship from before its disappearance, then the recent scans showing its current position. 32 years ago, the Persephone was conducting a routine research mission studying Saturn's magnetic field.

During a flyby of the rings, all communication suddenly ceased. No distress call, no system failures reported. It simply vanished. I studied this case at the Academy, Eliana said, adjusting her glasses. The leading theory was catastrophic structural failure, possibly from an undetected micrometeorite impact.

That was the official conclusion I confirmed. But now we have to reconsider everything we thought we knew. I switched to the most recent scan data three days ago. Deep space monitoring picked up the Persephone's automated beacon. The ship appears to be intact and in a stable orbit.

Kyle stopped his fidgeting and looked up sharply. That doesn't make any sense, Commander. 32 years drifting in space. The exterior should be heavily damaged from micrometeorite impacts. Solar radiation would have degraded the whole materials.

The power systems should be completely dead. Exactly. I said, nodding at him. Which is why we're approaching this with extreme caution. Our mission is to dock with the Persephone, board her if possible, and determine what happened to the crew and the vessel.

Eliana was studying the scan data with intense focus. The power signature suggests the main systems are still operational. How is that possible? Even with the backup systems, they should have lost power decades ago. That's what we need to find out, I replied.

Approach using standard recovery protocols, but I want everyone prepared for unexpected findings. You mean like aliens? Benny asked, half joking. I gave him a level look. I mean, like anything that doesn't align with our understanding of physics or engineering, We go in prepared for anomalies.

What about the crew? Kyle asked quietly. The question hung in the air. We all knew the odds of finding survivors after 32 years were non existent. We treat this as both a recovery and investigation mission, I said firmly.

If there are remains aboard, we handle them with appropriate dignity, but our primary objective is to determine what happened to the ship and how it returned. I looked at each of them in turn, gauging their reactions. Eliana remained composed, analytical as always. Kyle looked troubled but determined. Benny's usual excitement was tempered with appropriate gravity.

We'll approach the Persephone tomorrow at O 800. I want equipment checks completed by 2000. Today. Full containment protocols will be in effect. We treat this as a potentially hazardous environment until proven otherwise.

I paused, considering my next words carefully. This mission goes beyond standard recovery operations. What we find aboard the Persephone could challenge our understanding of space travel. It could explain one of the greatest mysteries in NASA's history, or it could raise more questions than answers. Kyle cleared his throat.

Commander, what if we find something that well that we're not prepared for? That's why I selected each of you. I said Doctor Peters has the scientific expertise to analyze whatever we encounter you. Kyle can handle any technical challenges. Benny knows navigation systems better than anyone on this ship, and I've LED recovery operations in extreme conditions before.

I shut down the display and stood straighter. We have our orders. We have our training. Whatever we find out there will handle it professionally and methodically. As they filed out of the briefing room, I watched their faces carefully.

This mission would test us all. Our training, our composure, possibly even our understanding of reality itself. The Persephone shouldn't have survived 32 years in deep space, let alone returned with functioning systems. Tomorrow we would face whatever waited for us aboard that ghost ship. And I couldn't shake the feeling that none of us, not NASA, not Mission Control, and certainly not my small team, we're truly prepared for what we might find.

I stood at the command console, staring at the ship that shouldn't exist. The Persephone hung in space before us, the stark light of distant Saturn gleaming off her hull. After three weeks of careful approach, we'd finally reached our target, and what I saw made no sense. No impact damage, I said, adjusting the external camera zoom.

Look at those solar arrays, perfectly aligned, not a panel out of place. The ship looked like it had just left the construction dock yesterday, not like something that had been drifting through space for 32 years. The white hulls showed no discoloration, no pitting from micrometeorites, nothing to suggest it had spent more than three decades exposed to the harsh environment of deep space.

This isn't right, Benny said beside me, his voice quiet with disbelief. The radiation exposure alone should have degraded the exterior coating. There should be visible yellowing at minimum. Probably structural deterioration in the composite panels. I nodded, unable to look away from the impossibly pristine vessel.

I know the Persephone was a ghost that refused to look like 1. Every instinct told me something was wrong, but our mission parameters were clear. Prepare for boarding. I ordered, turning to face my team. Full containment protocols.

I want atmosphere readings, radiation checks, and structural integrity scans before we set foot inside. Kyle looked up from his console, his dark eyes wide. Commander, Are you sure about this? Everything about that ship is wrong. That's exactly why we're here.

I replied, keeping my voice steady to figure out what happened. Suit up, we leave in 20 minutes. The prep room was quiet as we pulled on our Eva suits. The normal banter was gone, replaced by the soft sounds of equipment checks and breathing. I watched my team as they worked.

Eliana's methodical movements as she checked each seal twice. Kyle's nervous energy as he tested his calms. Benny's unusual stillness as he stared at his helmet. Questions. I asked, securing my own helmet with a click.

Just one. Eliana said, her voice slightly muffled until she activated her calm. What's our extraction protocol if we encounter unexpected situations? I appreciated her careful wording. Standard emergency procedures.

Any team member calls and abort. We all return to the Hermes immediately, no questions asked, no hesitation. The airlock cycled and we pushed off toward the Persephone. The void between ships was only about 50 meters, but it felt much longer. I led the way, the gentle hiss of my suit's oxygen the only sound as we moved through the emptiness.

Behind me, the tethers connecting a stretched like silver threads keeping us together. As we crossed, the Persephone's main airlock came into view a standard double door system with an external control panel. I reached for it, expecting to find it dead, but as my gloved hand touched the panel, it lit up with a soft blue glow.

Powers active. I said, unable to keep the surprise from my voice. Running the override sequence now, I punched in the emergency access code, a sequence that should have been outdated by decades of security updates. The panel blinked green, and the outer door slid open with a smoothness that made my skin crawl. The ship's systems should have been completely dead after all this time.

Nothing about this made sense. Commander Kyle's voice came through my calm, tight with tension. How is that possible? The batteries should have died years ago, even with minimal power draw log It is another unexplained observation, I said, motioning the team forward. We'll find answers inside.

We moved into the airlock and the outer door closed behind us. The chamber pressurized automatically, another impossibility that no one commented on. When the inner door opened, the lights in the corridor beyond flickered on, as if the ship had been waiting for us. Life support is active, Eliana said, checking her suit readings.

Atmosphere composition is normal, oxygen at 21%, nitrogen at 78, trace gases within expected parameters. Temperature 19°C. That's not possible, Kyle whispered. And yet, I said, removing my helmet after confirming Eliana's readings on my own display. The others followed suit with visible reluctance.

The air smelled clean. Not stale, not recycled for decades, but fresh. The corridor stretched before us, Immaculate and well lit. No dust, no signs of abandonment or decay. It looked like the crew might return at any moment from a meal break split into teams.

I ordered Eliana with me to the command deck. Kyle, take Benny to engineering, check logs, systems, anything that might tell us what happened. Stay on comms at all times. Kyle nodded, his face pale under his beard. Yes, Sir.

As they headed aft, I turned to Eliana. Let's find the bridge. We moved through the corridors, passing crew quarters and common areas. Everything was in perfect order, personal items still in place, no signs of panic or evacuation. In the mess hall, plates with food remains sat on tables, the organic matter showing no signs of the decay that should have consumed it decades ago.

It's like time stopped. Eliana murmured, examining 1/2 eaten sandwich that looked fresh enough to take a bite from. I didn't respond. There was nothing to say that wouldn't sound like fear. The command deck was through a standard pressure door at the end of the main corridor.

It slid open at our approach and lights came up automatically as we entered. 6 workstations surrounded a central command chair, all showing the soft glow of standby mode. Screens flickered to life as we moved past them. Look at this, I said, pointing to a coffee cup sitting on the navigation console. The liquid inside looked fresh, still filling the cup halfway.

No evaporation. Eliana moved to the science station, her fingers hovering over the controls. Systems are responsive. I can access the data archives. While she worked, I checked each station.

Tactical, communications, engineering. All showed normal operations up to the point of disappearance. No alarms, no emergency protocols activated. According to the logs, nothing had gone wrong at all. Commander Kyle's voice came through my calm.

We found something in engineering. The reactor is well, It's running at normal capacity, no fuel depletion. It's like it's been frozen in time. Copy that, I replied. Keep looking.

I moved to the captain's chair, noting the jacket draped over its back as if the captain had stepped away for just a moment. The personal console built into the armrest was still active, showing a log entry interface. I tapped it, and the screen changed to show the captain's personal log. I found the captain's log.

I said, scrolling through the entries. Most were routine reports, course corrections, crew evaluations, research updates. Nothing unusual until the final entry, dated the day of disappearance. I played the audio. Captain's log final entry.

A calm male voice spoke from the console. The anomaly we discovered in Saturn's rings isn't what we thought. It's something else, something older than human understanding. It's shown us things we were never meant to see, places beyond our comprehension. I believe we've been chosen for a purpose I can't yet grasp.

If anyone finds this ship, know that we were never meant to return. The log ended abruptly. I looked up at Eliana, who had stopped her work to listen. What does that mean? She asked, her clinical detachment slipping for the first time since I'd known her.

Before I could answer, Benny's voice came through the calm, high and excited Commander. We found their research data. You need to see this. They were studying some kind of quantum anomaly in the rings, something that was affecting space-time around it. The readings are unlike anything I've ever seen.

I looked back at the Captain's console, at the final words still displayed there. We were never meant to return. I couldn't shake the feeling that we've made a terrible mistake by coming here. I ordered everyone to gather in the mess hall. We needed to organize our approach, establish a base of operations.

The pristine state of the ship made no sense, but we had to move forward methodically. We need to split our focus while maintaining contact. I said, setting my tablet on the table. Eliana, I want you analyzing the environmental systems. Figure out how this ship is maintaining atmosphere and temperature after all this time.

Eliana nodded, already pulling up schematics on her device. I'll cross reference current readings with the ship's logs. If there's any discrepancy in the data, I'll find it. Benny, focus on the navigation systems and flight data. I want to know exactly what happened on the day the Persephone disappeared.

Benny looked up, his amber eyes bright with curiosity. What about the quantum anomaly in Saturn's rings? Should I prioritize that data? Start with standard navigation logs. We need to establish a timeline first, then we can dig into the anomaly.

I turned to Kyle, who stood slightly apart from the group, staring at the spotless floor. Kyle, I want you checking all major systems. Life support, Power Distribution, communications. Look for anything that doesn't match standard operating parameters. Kyle nodded, but his eyes kept darting to the corners of the room.

Commander, doesn't it bother you how clean everything is? No dust, nothing out of place. That's exactly why we're here. I said to figure out what's keeping this ship in this state. Now we need to establish a base camp right here in the mess hall.

It's centrally located and gives us access to food and water if needed. Are we actually staying overnight? Kyle asked, his voice tightening. We have at least 24 hours of work ahead of us. I'm setting up sleeping shifts, 2 people awake at all times, 2 resting.

Eliana and I will take first watch Kyle and Benny, you'll get some rest, then relieve us in four hours. Benny raised his hand like he was in a classroom. What if we find something, you know, really weird. Document everything, take samples when possible, but most importantly, maintain communication. No one goes anywhere alone, and check in every 30 minutes regardless of findings.

I looked at each of them in turn. Questions. No one spoke up. All right, let's set up our equipment and get to work. The next few hours passed in focused silence.

Kyle and Benny eventually settled into makeshift sleeping arrangements on bench seats while Eliana and I compared notes on our findings. Everything about the ship was functioning normally, impossibly normally. Systems that should have degraded or failed decades ago operated at peak efficiency. It's like the ship exists in some kind of stasis, Eliana said quietly, careful not to wake the others.

Time passing, but not affecting anything physical. Any theories on how that's possible? She shook her head. Nothing that fits known physics. The quantum anomaly Benny mentioned might be related, but I'd need more data.

Around hour three of our watch, I heard something. A faint sound from somewhere deep in the ship, like a door sliding open and closed. I straightened in my seat. Did you hear that? Eliana looked up from her tablet.

Hear what? I held up my hand for silence, listening. Nothing. I'm going to check it out. Wake Kyle.

I want backup. Kyle was disoriented when I shook him awake, but he quickly gathered himself when I explained what I'd heard. We moved through the corridors methodically checking each section, but found nothing unusual. Every door was closed, every room empty. Maybe it was just the ship settling?

Kyle suggested as we headed back to the mess hall. Old vessels make noises like this ship isn't behaving like an old vessel. I reminded him. That's the problem. When we returned, I noticed Kyle kept looking over his shoulder.

His earlier confidence had faded, replaced by something jittery and uncertain. The rest of the night passed without incident, though Kyle tossed and turned when it was his turn to rest by morning, or what our body clocks considered morning. Since there was no day night cycle in space, we regrouped to share findings. Benny went first.

The navigation data just stops on the day of disappearance. All readings cut off mid sequence. There's no gradual failure, no emergency protocols activated. It's like someone hit pause. Eliana nodded.

Environmental systems show the same pattern. Perfect operation until the moment of disappearance, then nothing. Until three days ago, when everything suddenly came back online. I turned to Kyle, who sat hunched in his chair, eyes bloodshot. Kyle, your report.

He looked up, startled. What? Oh yeah, systems are all functional. Too functional. It's not right.

His gaze darted to an empty corner of the room. Did you hear that? We all went quiet. I heard nothing. Hear what, Kyle?

I asked. The whispers. He rubbed his temples. They've been calling my name all night. You really don't hear them?

Eliana and I exchanged concerned looks. Kyle. I said carefully. No one's whispering could be stress or sleep deprivation. When did this start?

After we checked out that noise last night. He stood up suddenly. We need to leave now. We're not alone here. Kyle, sit down, I said firmly.

We need to approach this rationally. Rational. He laughed, a sharp, uncomfortable sound. There's nothing rational about this ship. Something's watching us.

I can feel it. Let's take a step back. I suggested Eliana, what do you make of Kyle's experience? Any environmental factors that could cause auditory hallucinations? I turn to consult with Eliana about potential causes, oxygen levels, psychological stress, even some kind of low frequency sound waves that might affect perception.

When I looked back, Kyle was gone. Where's Kyle? I asked, spinning around. Benny jumped up. He was just here, damn it.

I grabbed my Comm unit. Kyle, report your position. Static answered me. Kyle, acknowledge nothing, we need to find him. I said.

He's clearly not in a stable state. Eliana, take the command deck and engineering sections. Benny, check crew quarters and science labs. I'll take the maintenance areas and storage base. Check in every 5 minutes, and if you find him, do not approach alone.

Call for backup immediately. We split up, moving quickly through the ship's corridors. 10 minutes passed with no sign of him. Then 20 Commander Benny's voice came through my calm. I've checked all the crew quarters, no sign of them.

Keep looking, I replied. Eliana, anything negative? Command deck is clear, moving to engineering now. I headed toward the galley, thinking Kyle might have gone looking for water or food. As I approached, something felt wrong.

The air seemed heavier, charged with something I couldn't identify. I pushed open the galley door and froze. Kyle was floating near the ceiling, rotating slowly in the zero gravity that had somehow activated in just this room. A knife from the kitchen was lodged in his chest, and globules of blood hung suspended in the air around him, perfect Crimson spheres catching the light man down.

I shouted into my calm galley. Now. I pushed off from the doorway, floating up toward Kyle. His eyes were open, staring at nothing, his face frozen in an expression that wasn't fear or pain, but something like acceptance. Eliana and Benny arrived moments later, both stopping short at the doorway.

Oh God. Benny whispered. Eliana moved forward more clinically, examining the scene. The gravity controls for this room have been manually overridden, she said, checking a panel near the door. He did this deliberately.

I carefully pulled the knife from Kyle's chest, causing more blood to well up and form floating droplets. We need to check the security footage, I said. See what happened. We restored gravity to the room, carefully catching Kyle's body as it descended. After covering him with a sheet, we moved to the security station near the mess hall.

The Persephone's internal cameras had captured everything. The footage showed Kyle entering the galley alone, looking over his shoulder repeatedly. He stood in the center of the room, whispering to himself or to someone we couldn't see. Then he went to a drawer, removed a knife and adjusted the gravity controls as he floated upward.

He positioned the knife against his chest and pushed it in with both hands, his lips still moving in conversation with emptiness. He killed himself. Benny said, his voice hollow. The wound angle and depth confirm it was self-inflicted. Eliana added, her clinical tone barely masking her shock.

But why? I rewound the footage, trying to read Kyle's lips. Can we get audio on this? Eliana adjusted some settings. The system recorded ambient sound, but it's faint.

We listened carefully as she enhanced the audio. Kyle's whispers became barely audible. I understand now. Yes. They never left.

I see you, I'll join you. I shut off the footage, my decision made. We're evacuating now. Whatever affected the original crew is still here, and it's affecting us too. But the mission Benny started, the mission is over.

I cut him off. We've lost a crew member. We're taking what data we've collected and leaving immediately. I looked at both of them with what I hoped was reassuring confidence to pack up only essential equipment. We move out in 15 minutes.

As they gathered their things, I took one last look at the security footage frozen on the screen. Kyle floating upward with that eerily peaceful expression, speaking to something none of us could see. Whatever the Persephone had found in Saturn's rings 32 years ago, it had come back with a ship, and now it had claimed another victim.

I grabbed the last of our data drives and shoved them into my pack. The sooner we got off this ship, the better. Kyle's blood still floated in tiny globules around the galley no matter how many times I tried to wipe the image from my mind. Commander, I've got the environmental readings and system logs.

Eliana called from across the mess hall, her tablet tucked under her arm. Ready when you are? I nodded and zipped up my pack. Good. Let's move out.

Benny, you set. When Benny didn't answer, I looked up. He stood frozen near the doorway, head tilted slightly as if listening to something. His eyes tracked across the empty corner of the room. Benny.

I stepped toward him. We need to go now. He blinked slowly and turned to me with a strange smile. They're talking to me, Commander. My skin went cold.

Who's talking to you? The crew. Benny's eyes never quite focused on me. They never left, you know. They're part of the ship now.

I glanced at Eliana, who had stopped packing and was watching Benny with the same clinical focus she'd given the ship's impossible readings. Benny, listen to me. I kept my voice steady, the same tone I'd use talking down panicked rookies on their first Eva. Whatever you think you're hearing, it's not real. The same thing happened to Kyle.

We need to get back to the Hermes. Benny shook his head. You don't understand. None of us do. The ship found something out there in the rings, something ancient, something that changed them.

He smiled again at that same distant expression. And now it's changing me too. I moved closer, keeping my movement slow and deliberate. What exactly do you think it found? Benny, They showed me in the navigation data.

His eyes lit up. A quantum anomaly. But it wasn't just a distortion in space-time. It was a window, or a door. They went through it, but they also stayed here, both at once.

Commander Eliana's voice was low and urgent behind me. A word. I backed away from Benny, keeping my eyes on him. Stay right there, Robinson. That's an order.

When I reached Eliana, she pulled me a few steps further away and spoke in a whisper. I think I understand what's happening. The readings I took, the way the systems are functioning. This ship exists partially outside normal space-time. The crew's consciousness might have been absorbed into the system somehow.

You're saying the ship is haunted? I kept my voice low. Not haunted. Integrated. Her eyes were bright with scientific fascination, despite the danger.

If the anomaly they found created some kind of quantum entanglement, their consciousness could exist in a state that's neither fully here nor fully gone. And now it's affecting Benny the same way it got to Kyle. She nodded. We need to leave now. I turned back to Benny, who was running his hand along the wall like he was feeling for a pulse.

Benny, we're evacuating. That's a direct order. I used my command voice, the one that usually cut through any situation. He looked at me almost sadly. Yes, Sir.

I didn't trust his sudden compliance, but we had no time to argue. Move out airlock now. We gathered our equipment and headed through the corridors toward the airlock where we'd entered. I kept Benny in front of me, watching his every move. Eliana walked behind us, her footsteps quick and light.

The ship seemed different now. The clean, pristine corridors felt watchful. The lights pulsed slightly as we passed, like the ship was breathing. Or maybe my nerves were finally getting to me. When we reached the airlock, I punched in the access code.

The outer door remained sealed, while the inner door stood open. Standard procedure we'd need to cycle through helmets on. I ordered, pulling mine from my pack. Eliana immediately complied, sealing her helmet with practice deficiency. Benny held his helmet in his hands, staring at his reflection in the visor.

Benny, helmet on now, I stepped toward him. He looked up at me, and his eyes were clear for the first time since we found him staring at the wall. I can't go, Commander. I belong here now. The hell you do.

I reach for his arm, but he stepped back. They've shown me what's on the other side, what they found in Saturn's rings. His voice was calm, almost peaceful. It's beautiful there, Benny, don't. Before I could stop him, he slapped the control panel.

The inner airlock door slid shut between us with a hiss of hydraulics sealing him on the other side. Benny. I slammed my fist against the reinforced glass. He stood on the other side, smiling. I'm sorry, commander, he said, his voice coming through the intercom.

But the ship needs me now. A blaring alarm cut through the air, red warning lights flashing along the corridor. Commander. Eliana called, her eyes on her tablet. The reactor, it's overloading.

Energy readings are spiking off the charts. I tried the override code on the door panel, but nothing happened. Benny had locked us out. Robinson, open this door now. I shouted through the glass.

I saw him shake his head. Go, Commander, save yourselves. We'll find you again someday. The ship shuddered beneath our feet. The alarms grew louder.

We have to go. Eliana said, grabbing my arm now. I met Benny's eyes one last time. He placed his palm against the glass, and for a second I thought I saw other hands joining his transparent, overlapping fingers pressed against the barrier. Damn it.

I turned away. Let's move. We cycled through the outer airlock and pushed off toward the Hermes, our tethers guiding us across the void. The 50 meters between ships felt like 50 miles as we pulled ourselves hand over hand. Behind us, the Persephone's hull began to glow with an eerie blue light that pulsed from within.

The ship seemed to warp, its edges blurring like a mirage. We reached the Hermes airlock and tumbled inside. As soon as the outer door sealed, I hit the Comm bridge. Emergency launch sequence. Get us away from the Persephone now.

The Hermes rumbled as the engines fired. Through the airlock window, I watched as the Persephone's glow intensified. The ship's structure began to fold in on itself, like paper being crushed by an invisible hand. What's happening? I asked, not really expecting an answer.

Gravitational collapse? Eliana said, her voice filled with awe. Despite our situation, it's creating a singularity. The Persephone compressed to a brilliant point of light, then vanished with a flash that lit up space around us. The Hermes rocked from the shockwave but the distance we put between us was enough to keep us safe.

Then there was nothing, just empty space where the Persephone had been. It's gone, Eliana whispered. Completely gone. I stared at the emptiness, thinking of Benny's face behind the glass, of Kyle floating in the galley, of a crew that disappeared 32 years ago but never really left. Hours later, I sat alone in my quarters, writing my report.

How could I possibly explain what we'd seen, what we'd lost? I typed and deleted the same paragraph three times, trying to find words for something that defied explanation. The lighting in my quarters flickered briefly. I looked up, suddenly alert. In the small mirror mounted on the wall.

I caught a glimpse of movement behind me, a reflection that wasn't mine. Benny stood there, smiling, his eyes clear and bright. But when I spun around, my quarters were empty. I turned back to the mirror. Just my own face stared back at me.

Now tired, haunted, alone. I reached out and turn the mirror to face the wall. Some things were better left unseen.