The Ribcage of the Void
A deep-space scavenger, cutting into the hull of a derelict freighter, discovers that some things that die don't stay dead. The prize of a lifetime becomes a race for survival.
EXT. DERELICT FREIGHTER 'STAR-SEEKER' - SPACE
The blackness is absolute, punctured by a million distant stars.
Floating against this void is the STAR-SEEKER, a massive, two-hundred-year-old freighter. It is a ghost ship, scarred by micrometeoroids, its hull a patchwork of rust and shadow.
A single figure, CASSIE (30s), is attached to the hull by magnetic boots. Her salvage suit is functional, scuffed, practical.
She wields a PLASMA TORCH. An angry, brilliant blue flame spits from its nozzle, reflecting in the polished curve of her helmet visor.
SOUND of the torch hissing, the only noise in the universe.
BENJI (V.O.)
(Tinny, over comms)
Anything?
Cassie doesn't answer. She focuses on her work. Beads of molten metal slag drip from the cut, freezing instantly into misshapen pearls that drift away into space.
BENJI (V.O.)
Cass? Lost your signal for a sec.
Cassie pulls the torch back with a grunt. A jagged, man-sized hole now gapes in the freighter's side. The blackness within is total.
CASSIE
I'm here. Breach is complete. Going in.
BENJI (V.O.)
Copy that. Keep the channel open. And try not to touch anything priceless until I'm there to tell you what it is.
Cassie bites back a retort. She clips the torch to her belt. Her mag-boots THUD heavily as she repositions. She grabs a fistful of torn metal and pulls herself through the opening.
INT. STAR-SEEKER / CARGO BAY - CONTINUOUS
Total darkness.
Then, powerful suit lights slice through the black, illuminating a vast cargo bay.
A fine dust hangs motionless in the zero-g environment, a frozen cloud. Large crates are tethered to the floor and walls with thick magnetic cables.
SOUND: Absolute silence, save for the gentle PING of Cassie's blood pressure monitor inside her helmet.
Cassie floats into the center of the bay. She unspools a TETHER from her waist, clipping one end to the hull beside the entry point. A lifeline.
BENJI (V.O.)
What do you see?
CASSIE
(Voice low, echoing slightly)
Cargo bay. Standard configuration. Looks untouched.
Her boots propel her in a slow, controlled float towards a large door on the far side of the bay.
That's when she sees it.
CLOSE ON a control console. A thin, almost invisible SHEEN coats its surface. Not frost. Not oil. Long, hardened strands of it drip from a ceiling girder above.
Cassie drifts closer. She reaches out a gloved finger, hesitating just inches from the substance.
CASSIE
There's something weird here, Benj. Some kind of residue.
BENJI (V.O.)
Contaminant? Viral? Don't touch it, Cass. Get the core specs and get out.
CASSIE
Acknowledged.
She pulls her hand back, but her eyes linger on the strange substance. She pushes off a crate, gliding towards the far door. Stenciled letters read: ENGINEERING.
The door panel beside it is dead. She pulls a pry-bar from her thigh-rig.
INT. STAR-SEEKER / CORRIDOR - MOMENTS LATER
SOUND of METAL SCREAMING as Cassie forces the doors apart just enough to squeeze through.
The corridor beyond is just as dark. Her suit lights cut a narrow path ahead.
The organic resin is thicker here. It coats the walls, the floor. It PULSES with a faint, internal luminescence, like veins under moonlight.
And there's a new sound. Or a feeling.
SOUND: A low-frequency THRUM, almost subsonic.
The vibration travels through the soles of her boots, up her legs.
CASSIE
Benji, you reading any energy signatures?
BENJI (V.O.)
(A crackle of static)
Negative. The whole wreck is dead as a doornail. Background radiation is nominal. Why?
CASSIE
I'm hearing something. Feeling something. A vibration.
BENJI (V.O.)
Probably just your stomach. You skipped breakfast again.
Cassie ignores him, pushing deeper. The corridor opens up. She floats through the threshold and stops dead.
INT. STAR-SEEKER / ENGINEERING BAY - CONTINUOUS
The chamber is vast. A cathedral of dead technology.
In the center sits the Cresh-Core V reactor, a massive, cylindrical beast.
But it's been... changed.
The resinous growth isn't just on it; it's *part* of it. Thick, veined TENDrils snake out from the reactor's housing, burrowing into the ship's walls, the floor, the ceiling. They pulse with that same sickly light, all in time with the THRUMMING that's now so powerful she can feel it in her teeth.
CASSIE
(Whispering)
Oh, hell.
BENJI (V.O.)
Cass? What is it? Talk to me.
CASSIE
The reactor... it's... I don't know, Benji. It looks like it's alive.
She drifts closer, mesmerized.
At the heart of the mass, where the control conduit should be, is a dark, PULSATING SAC. It's the size of a shuttle. It beats with a slow, powerful rhythm. A heart.
THUMP... THUMP...
BENJI (V.O.)
(Voice sharp, urgent)
Get out of there. That's not in any salvage manual. Abort the mission. Now.
But she can't move. Her suit's scanner whirs, analyzing the material. Nonsense scrolls across her HUD:
`ORGANIC. METALLIC. SILICATE. UNIDENTIFIED GENETIC MARKERS.`
She raises her multi-tool, switching it to the spectral analysis function. A beam of blue light shoots out, playing over the surface of the pulsating organ.
The moment the light touches it--
The rhythm changes. The slow thrumming skyrockets.
THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP.
BENJI (V.O.)
Cassie! What did you do?!
All around the chamber, dormant lights FLICKER ON.
SOUND: A single, PIERCING EMERGENCY KLAXON begins to BLARE, painfully loud.
Red emergency lights bathe the chamber, reflecting off the glistening, veined surfaces. Consoles that have been dark for two centuries light up, displaying streams of alien code.
The ship is waking up.
Panic seizes Cassie. She fumbles for her tether, pulling herself back towards the corridor.
But the tendrils are moving.
They peel away from the walls, reaching for her like grasping fingers. One whips through the air and wraps around her ankle. The grip is shockingly strong, like living muscle lined with metal fiber.
CASSIE
Benji! It's got me!
She kicks out. Her boot connects with the tendril. It doesn't register the impact.
More tendrils snake towards her.
The central heart beats faster and faster, a frantic drum against the hull of the ship. The entire freighter VIBRATES around her.
The hole she cut seems a universe away.
She draws her plasma torch, aiming it at the tendril wrapped around her leg. The blue igniter light sputters to life in her shaking hand.
The blackness is absolute, punctured by a million distant stars.
Floating against this void is the STAR-SEEKER, a massive, two-hundred-year-old freighter. It is a ghost ship, scarred by micrometeoroids, its hull a patchwork of rust and shadow.
A single figure, CASSIE (30s), is attached to the hull by magnetic boots. Her salvage suit is functional, scuffed, practical.
She wields a PLASMA TORCH. An angry, brilliant blue flame spits from its nozzle, reflecting in the polished curve of her helmet visor.
SOUND of the torch hissing, the only noise in the universe.
BENJI (V.O.)
(Tinny, over comms)
Anything?
Cassie doesn't answer. She focuses on her work. Beads of molten metal slag drip from the cut, freezing instantly into misshapen pearls that drift away into space.
BENJI (V.O.)
Cass? Lost your signal for a sec.
Cassie pulls the torch back with a grunt. A jagged, man-sized hole now gapes in the freighter's side. The blackness within is total.
CASSIE
I'm here. Breach is complete. Going in.
BENJI (V.O.)
Copy that. Keep the channel open. And try not to touch anything priceless until I'm there to tell you what it is.
Cassie bites back a retort. She clips the torch to her belt. Her mag-boots THUD heavily as she repositions. She grabs a fistful of torn metal and pulls herself through the opening.
INT. STAR-SEEKER / CARGO BAY - CONTINUOUS
Total darkness.
Then, powerful suit lights slice through the black, illuminating a vast cargo bay.
A fine dust hangs motionless in the zero-g environment, a frozen cloud. Large crates are tethered to the floor and walls with thick magnetic cables.
SOUND: Absolute silence, save for the gentle PING of Cassie's blood pressure monitor inside her helmet.
Cassie floats into the center of the bay. She unspools a TETHER from her waist, clipping one end to the hull beside the entry point. A lifeline.
BENJI (V.O.)
What do you see?
CASSIE
(Voice low, echoing slightly)
Cargo bay. Standard configuration. Looks untouched.
Her boots propel her in a slow, controlled float towards a large door on the far side of the bay.
That's when she sees it.
CLOSE ON a control console. A thin, almost invisible SHEEN coats its surface. Not frost. Not oil. Long, hardened strands of it drip from a ceiling girder above.
Cassie drifts closer. She reaches out a gloved finger, hesitating just inches from the substance.
CASSIE
There's something weird here, Benj. Some kind of residue.
BENJI (V.O.)
Contaminant? Viral? Don't touch it, Cass. Get the core specs and get out.
CASSIE
Acknowledged.
She pulls her hand back, but her eyes linger on the strange substance. She pushes off a crate, gliding towards the far door. Stenciled letters read: ENGINEERING.
The door panel beside it is dead. She pulls a pry-bar from her thigh-rig.
INT. STAR-SEEKER / CORRIDOR - MOMENTS LATER
SOUND of METAL SCREAMING as Cassie forces the doors apart just enough to squeeze through.
The corridor beyond is just as dark. Her suit lights cut a narrow path ahead.
The organic resin is thicker here. It coats the walls, the floor. It PULSES with a faint, internal luminescence, like veins under moonlight.
And there's a new sound. Or a feeling.
SOUND: A low-frequency THRUM, almost subsonic.
The vibration travels through the soles of her boots, up her legs.
CASSIE
Benji, you reading any energy signatures?
BENJI (V.O.)
(A crackle of static)
Negative. The whole wreck is dead as a doornail. Background radiation is nominal. Why?
CASSIE
I'm hearing something. Feeling something. A vibration.
BENJI (V.O.)
Probably just your stomach. You skipped breakfast again.
Cassie ignores him, pushing deeper. The corridor opens up. She floats through the threshold and stops dead.
INT. STAR-SEEKER / ENGINEERING BAY - CONTINUOUS
The chamber is vast. A cathedral of dead technology.
In the center sits the Cresh-Core V reactor, a massive, cylindrical beast.
But it's been... changed.
The resinous growth isn't just on it; it's *part* of it. Thick, veined TENDrils snake out from the reactor's housing, burrowing into the ship's walls, the floor, the ceiling. They pulse with that same sickly light, all in time with the THRUMMING that's now so powerful she can feel it in her teeth.
CASSIE
(Whispering)
Oh, hell.
BENJI (V.O.)
Cass? What is it? Talk to me.
CASSIE
The reactor... it's... I don't know, Benji. It looks like it's alive.
She drifts closer, mesmerized.
At the heart of the mass, where the control conduit should be, is a dark, PULSATING SAC. It's the size of a shuttle. It beats with a slow, powerful rhythm. A heart.
THUMP... THUMP...
BENJI (V.O.)
(Voice sharp, urgent)
Get out of there. That's not in any salvage manual. Abort the mission. Now.
But she can't move. Her suit's scanner whirs, analyzing the material. Nonsense scrolls across her HUD:
`ORGANIC. METALLIC. SILICATE. UNIDENTIFIED GENETIC MARKERS.`
She raises her multi-tool, switching it to the spectral analysis function. A beam of blue light shoots out, playing over the surface of the pulsating organ.
The moment the light touches it--
The rhythm changes. The slow thrumming skyrockets.
THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP.
BENJI (V.O.)
Cassie! What did you do?!
All around the chamber, dormant lights FLICKER ON.
SOUND: A single, PIERCING EMERGENCY KLAXON begins to BLARE, painfully loud.
Red emergency lights bathe the chamber, reflecting off the glistening, veined surfaces. Consoles that have been dark for two centuries light up, displaying streams of alien code.
The ship is waking up.
Panic seizes Cassie. She fumbles for her tether, pulling herself back towards the corridor.
But the tendrils are moving.
They peel away from the walls, reaching for her like grasping fingers. One whips through the air and wraps around her ankle. The grip is shockingly strong, like living muscle lined with metal fiber.
CASSIE
Benji! It's got me!
She kicks out. Her boot connects with the tendril. It doesn't register the impact.
More tendrils snake towards her.
The central heart beats faster and faster, a frantic drum against the hull of the ship. The entire freighter VIBRATES around her.
The hole she cut seems a universe away.
She draws her plasma torch, aiming it at the tendril wrapped around her leg. The blue igniter light sputters to life in her shaking hand.