[ WP ] You and your family have lived in the wreck of an ancient spaceship floating through space for a hundred years . But you discover you are not alone ...

The Breach happened eighty years ago. 
 
 Or at least, that ’ s the way Nana tells it. She said that *Home* went through a big field of something sharp and dangerous, and a hole ripped through the hull faster than you could yell ‘ proximity alarm! ’ 
 
 Most of the people got sucked away into the big yawn, but my folks and their folks were lucky enough to be in the dirt, watering the trees. When all the air sucked away the bulkheads closed and kept us sealed up, so this is where we ’ ve been. 
 
 In the dirt. 
 
 Every day ’ s pretty much the same. I get up when the lamps come on and go stress the trees. I get real close and push against the bark. 
 
 My parents tell me there used to be wind cycles to do this for us, but something got clogged and now I have to do it by hand. 
 
 At midday I join my folks and Nana for a nice smoke and a meal. We eat the same fruit and veggies pretty much every day, and it sucks. But after a puff or two everything tastes good again. 
 
 After lunch I get to plowing. We keep the crops in rotation, and these days I work up in the hills flush up against *Home* ’ s metal wall 
 
 And that ’ s when I felt my first breeze. 
 
 I grabbed my hat before it tumbled off my head and looked around for the source, and that ’ s when I saw it. 
 
 One of those great big bulkheads, those ones that have kept us sealed up for years… 
 
 One of them had opened, and then shut back down with a gravelly crunch. 
 
 *** 
 
 “ You ain ’ t going *nowhere*. ” 
 
 Pops was a bit of a hardass, and once he got his head set about something, it was hard to make him turn. 
 
 “ But dad, it ’ s open! I can finally see what ’ s out there! ” 
 
 Nana scoffed. “ Boy, back before the Breach, do you know where all the shipsfolk wanted to come? ” I shook my head and she answered, “ *Here. * This is the biggest and most beautiful part of the ship, and we have the cleanest air. There ’ s nothing better out there. ” 
 
 Mama put on her sweet syrupy mama ’ s voice. “ Honey I know you want to get out there, but this ship ’ s been tumbling apart around us. Who knows if that door won ’ t just send you out into the big black if you take the wrong step? ” 
 
 I grumbled but she passed me the joint and I took a few tokes. The solar lamps dimmed and the stars shone through the big transparisteel dome. It looked like someone had cracked open a coconut and poured that milk until it spilt across the sky, dripping down all around us. 
 
 I blew smoke. 
 
 They were right. This place wasn ’ t so bad. 
 
 *** 
 
 That night I snuck off to the bulkhead. 
 
 This place wasn ’ t so bad, yeah, but it wasn ’ t everything I wanted. There were no star captains like Nan told us about. There were no big rumbly engines, no pretty digital girls that spoke for the ship, no *people. * There were no people but me and my folks, and my Nan. 
 
 And that wasn ’ t enough. 
 
 At the pad a light blinked soft green, and I realized for the first time that I had no idea what in the hell I was doing. How did I open this thing? 
 
 I knocked on the steel and it stayed shut. I punched the green light and nothing happened. I looked for a handle, but the metal was smooth as a nectarine. 
 
 *Sigh. * I leaned up against the door with my hands against the steel and shook my head. I wasn ’ t cut out for this. 
 
 A blue light shone beneath my right hand and I heard a voice: 
 
 * ” Welcome to 33-8. Please renew your registry with the Vice Captain. ” * 
 
 The bulkhead opened and I reflexively held my breath, shrinking away from the breeze. 
 
 But nothing happened. I didn ’ t get sucked away into the yawn, the big black didn ’ t rip my soul form my lungs. The void lurkers didn ’ t come to steal me off my feet. 
 
 It was all just fine. 
 
 I walked on through, and the lights blinked on. 
 
 Good *god. * This hall went on for miles, much bigger than my folk ’ s little farm. 
 
 I walked forward with a smile, but then something—I couldn ’ t tell you what—slowed my step and had me standing still. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and I had the distinct impression that there was something else out there. 
 
 Lurking. 
 
 I told myself that this was just Nan ’ s stories scaring me a little, but no matter how much I tried, I just couldn ’ t shake the feeling. 
 
 *** 
 
 A hand wrapped around my mouth and pulled me into the dark. 
 
 Void-lurkers. Had to be. 
 
 I thrust my arm out far and brought it back in an elbow thrust, catching the monster in the ribs and sending it into the wall. I turned around with a raised fist and the demon said, “ Take it easy. Shit, man. ” 
 
 What? 
 
 The thing stepped out of the shadows and I saw him for what he truly was. He had on a long brown leather coat, a gray shirt, and he wore two curved rods in holsters on his hips. “ Ya allah, ” he said. “ What the hell have they been feeding you? ” Then his face screwed up. “ Wait, who *are* you? ” 
 
 I was about to answer when he put his finger to his lips and dragged me back into a shadow. 
 
 “ Shut the fuck up, ” he whispered. “ We got a beak incoming. They always come after us if they see us, and you do *not* want them to see you. ” 
 
 The sounds of clicking claws whispered up the long dark of the hall. 
 
 *** 
 
 I shuffled to get a better look, but the browncoat pulled me against the wall and put his finger to his lips. 
 
 The clicking grew louder, a slow deliberate sound. Then there was a trill whine, a probing sound that tasted the air, and clicks came faster. 
 
 The browncoat pulled a rod out a holster, braced it against his forearm, and looked down the top of the burnished metal. 
 
 Then I saw it. 
 
 It had orange skin and long legs, much too long to be proportional. Instead of arms it had five long tendrils erupting from its body, and a head sat on the end of a long bony stalk. In front of a wicked set of eyes and a crest of tufted fur was a serrated beak as sharp as a scythe. 
 
 The thing arced its neck and cried into the air, and then it ’ s head exploded in a sick brown burst of thick steaming ichor. 
 
 The browncoat holstered the rod and turned to me. “ Right, ” he said, extending a hand. “ My name ’ s Rory, and you ’ re very, very welcome. ” 
 
 *** 
 
 “ No shit, you ’ re from the Farm? ” Rory sighed with relief. “ You have no idea how long we ’ ve been looking for a farm, man. We ’ re starving out here. ” 
 
 “ Who ’ s *we? * ” I asked. 
 
 Rory scratched the back of his head. “ You know. Me and my people. We live down in cargo. Lot of toys down there, ” he said, twirling his death stick. “ But not too much in the way of food. Lately we ’ ve even been taking down beaks and roasting ‘ em over the fire. ” 
 
 I thought back to that brown explosion of skull and flesh and shuddered. 
 
 “ Anyway, now we know you ’ re out here, we can pack up and leave! ” He shook his head. “ Man, you have no idea how long I ’ ve been hearing about *trees* and *dirt* and *wind* and all that. It ’ s going to be a prize to see all that. ” 
 
 “ Well, we don ’ t have wind, any more. ” 
 
 Rory shrugged. “ All that other stuff is just as good, trust me. ” 
 
 We walked for a long time, and I tried to keep a mental map going. Right turn, left turn, fifth door, second, set of stairs, dumbwaiter, pulley, third platform, eight catwalk… 
 
 “ What ’ re you smiling about? ” asked Rory. 
 
 I chuckled. “ Well, for as long as I ’ ve been alive I really only had my parents and my Nan. It ’ s good to talk to someone else, you know? ” 
 
 “ Eh, you ’ ll get sick of other people right quick. It ’ s crowded down in cargo. Why do you think I even come out here? ” 
 
 “ …To find food? ” 
 
 “ That ’ s part of it. ” Rory clicked his tongue. “ Mostly it ’ s to get some space. ” 
 
 “ Plenty of that, here. ” 
 
 Our footsteps echoed through the metal atria and we got to another bulkhead when Rory stopped and took a deep breath. 
 
 “ What ’ s wrong? ” 
 
 “ Well, ” he said. “ This is what we like to call the Traverse. Think of like a big T-shaped hallway. The way to cargo is at the other end of the T. But the beaks like to make there home at the bottom of the T. ” 
 
 “ So they ’ ll be in there with us? ” 
 
 “ Oh yeah. And we ’ re going to have to run, really hard. How ’ s your stamina? ” 
 
 I shrugged. “ I dunno. I mean, I work the plow every day. ” 
 
 “ Good enough. ” He wiggled his fingers in front of the bulkhead ’ s hand pad. “ We sprint on three. One… two… *THREE! * ” 
 
 The door opened and he shot forward before the lights had time to come on. I followed as close as I could. The fluorescent white bulbs blinked on around us, illuminating the dark orange stains on the walls and the rotting bodies on the floors. 
 
 It smelled rank in here. A compost pile. A graveyard. 
 
 The clicking sounds of claws scrabbling against metal erupted from just ahead of us. 
 
 * ” COME ON! ” * he yelled. * ” RUN! ” * 
 
 Rory pulled ahead but I couldn ’ t keep up, and by the time we got to the middle of the T I saw the shadows of the beaks behind me, clacking and snapping and searching for my flesh. Rory swung through the door on the opposite end but I was wheezing and coughing with the stench of death choking my throat, and then the orange shapes pulled ahead of me and slid to a screeching stop. I was surrounded on all sides, and I heard the final metal sound of a bulkhead slamming shut ahead of me. 
 
 
 I was surrounded on all sides, and alone. 
 
 *** 
 
 
 
 **More continued below... ** 
 
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 ^**/r/NaimKabir**
