Evelyn Star

The red dust of the colony world still clung to Evelyn Starr’s boots as she staggered across the darkened field, the distant glow of her crippled starship flickering against the horizon like a dying ember. Only hours before, the sky had burned with streaks of alien craft, their impossible silhouettes cutting through the upper atmosphere as they drove her crew to the brink. She had fought her way clear in the chaos that followed, through smoke, through fire, through the cold, humming terror of a foe unlike any she had faced among the stars. Now as the sun solely rose she looked for a place to rest and register. The quiet was still and vast around her, broken only by the lonely creak of a weathered barn and the whisper of wind through alien grain. Drawn by instinct as much as desperation, Evelyn forced one foot ahead of the other, her strength failing with each step until she reached the wide wooden doors and pushed her way inside. The scent of hay and oil wrapped around her as she crossed the threshold, the barn dimly lit by a single swinging lamp that cast long, wavering shadows across the rafters. Shapes loomed in the gloom old machinery, stacked crates, the quiet signs of a life far removed from the battles raging beyond the stars. Evelyn tried to call out, but her voice caught in her throat, her body trembling as the last of her strength gave way.