Meri Vale
Character
Meri knew something was off the moment she stepped onto the Aurora Crown.
It wasn't one thing she could point to. Just a quiet pressure in the air, a subtle wrongness that made her shoulders tense as she walked deeper into the ship. The corridors were too spotless for a freighter. Too empty. Too controlled. Even the lighting felt unnatural—dimmed in a way that made shadows stretch long across the deck.
By the time she reached the cargo bay, her fingers had already curled tightly around her notebook.
A holotable stood at the center of the room, its projection flickering with the crest of their employer, Dundee Crocdon. He had been the one to hire them for what sounded like an uncomplicated job: pick up a crate, deliver it, and collect payment. Simple. Straightforward. Safe enough that Meri had convinced herself it would be fine.
But the room was empty—no welcoming party. No crew. Not even a crate in sight.
Just that unsteady hologram casting pale light across the metal floor.
She lingered near its edge, trying to quiet the uneasy flutter in her chest. Something wasn't right—and the longer she stood there, the more the feeling tightened.
A sudden stutter ran through the projection, static snapping across the emitter. The holotable shifted images with a brief, disorienting flash—too quick for her to understand what she'd seen, only fast enough to leave a cold prickle down her spine.
Then the hologram cut out completely. For a second, there was only silence. The next second, everything changed.
Alarms blared overhead, sharp and blindingly loud in the enclosed space. Red emergency lights strobed to life along the walls, painting the bay in harsh, pulsing color. Meri flinched back instinctively, clutching her notebook tighter as the sound echoed through the ship.
Doors slammed shut around the perimeter, each one sealing with the heavy finality of deep-lock clamps. Panels flashed crimson. The deck vibrated under her boots as systems she couldn't identify powered up, humming with a rising energy that made her pulse race.
This wasn't a normal alarm. This wasn't part of the job.
Something had been triggered—something meant to keep people in, not out.
Meri's breath came shallow as she turned toward the nearest exit, only to find the blast door sealed tight, its control panel blinking an unyielding red. She tried another door with the same result. Everywhere she looked, the ship had closed itself like a trap snapping shut.
Somewhere deeper inside, metal crashed against metal—voices or machinery or something else entirely—but the alarms drowned out anything distinct.
Meri stood still for a moment, trying to steady her breathing, trying to understand what had just happened. This was no simple pickup. No routine contract. Whatever Varro Vex had promised them…it wasn't this. She swallowed hard, forcing herself not to panic, not to freeze.
The job had become something else. And she was already caught inside it.
Liin Terallo
Brinna Dara
RedSword77
Sorr Kortu
It wasn't one thing she could point to. Just a quiet pressure in the air, a subtle wrongness that made her shoulders tense as she walked deeper into the ship. The corridors were too spotless for a freighter. Too empty. Too controlled. Even the lighting felt unnatural—dimmed in a way that made shadows stretch long across the deck.
By the time she reached the cargo bay, her fingers had already curled tightly around her notebook.
A holotable stood at the center of the room, its projection flickering with the crest of their employer, Dundee Crocdon. He had been the one to hire them for what sounded like an uncomplicated job: pick up a crate, deliver it, and collect payment. Simple. Straightforward. Safe enough that Meri had convinced herself it would be fine.
But the room was empty—no welcoming party. No crew. Not even a crate in sight.
Just that unsteady hologram casting pale light across the metal floor.
She lingered near its edge, trying to quiet the uneasy flutter in her chest. Something wasn't right—and the longer she stood there, the more the feeling tightened.
A sudden stutter ran through the projection, static snapping across the emitter. The holotable shifted images with a brief, disorienting flash—too quick for her to understand what she'd seen, only fast enough to leave a cold prickle down her spine.
Then the hologram cut out completely. For a second, there was only silence. The next second, everything changed.
Alarms blared overhead, sharp and blindingly loud in the enclosed space. Red emergency lights strobed to life along the walls, painting the bay in harsh, pulsing color. Meri flinched back instinctively, clutching her notebook tighter as the sound echoed through the ship.
Doors slammed shut around the perimeter, each one sealing with the heavy finality of deep-lock clamps. Panels flashed crimson. The deck vibrated under her boots as systems she couldn't identify powered up, humming with a rising energy that made her pulse race.
This wasn't a normal alarm. This wasn't part of the job.
Something had been triggered—something meant to keep people in, not out.
Meri's breath came shallow as she turned toward the nearest exit, only to find the blast door sealed tight, its control panel blinking an unyielding red. She tried another door with the same result. Everywhere she looked, the ship had closed itself like a trap snapping shut.
Somewhere deeper inside, metal crashed against metal—voices or machinery or something else entirely—but the alarms drowned out anything distinct.
Meri stood still for a moment, trying to steady her breathing, trying to understand what had just happened. This was no simple pickup. No routine contract. Whatever Varro Vex had promised them…it wasn't this. She swallowed hard, forcing herself not to panic, not to freeze.
The job had become something else. And she was already caught inside it.
Last edited: