As Ruby the shank set about unlocking the ship's hatch, Rally surveyed the surrounding area. Slain Fallen and shattered Vex chassis lay everywhere, providing a surreal backdrop for the eerie quiet that had settled over the landscape of this alien moon. Great Saturn, in all its ringed majesty, dominated the sky above. Though it was approximately midday, the distant sun's brilliance struggled to reach this desolate world, and the scene was tinged with the faded purple mystery of twilight. Huygens 4, an engineering marvel a hundred yards long and still radiating with a defiant aura of the triumph of human perseverance, now lay rusting unceremoniously in the Titanian snow. She had seen it in memory, shining and new, countless times. She had felt the warmth of the earthly sun on her back as its silver hull gleamed, full of promise and opportunity. Seeing it now, rusted and still and far from home, suddenly felt so very wrong. All of this felt wrong. The first drops of acidic rain began to fall. Rally glanced at her armored wrist as a single droplet sizzled there, peeling lacquered paint and threatening to devour her plasteel shell. The hopeful words written on the ship's hull, faded by time and conflict, now ran in black rivulets as the rain pelted them, like mascara on a tear-stained metallic cheek. The ship would provide a welcome refuge, though Rally secretly feared what she might find inside.
The shank finished its work, and the rusting hatch groaned in protest as it scraped against its moorings. A blast of pressurized air escaped from within. Rally didn't seem to notice. She ran her hand through the ammonia snow at the base of the craft. With the synthesized tactile feedback of her gauntlets, she could feel the bitter cold as the frozen tufts fell between her fingers. This was fresh powder. The ship seemed largely intact, though the warp core on its aft section was ruptured and damaged beyond repair. This was not the grave of a Golden Age vessel from the distant past. The corrosive rainfall had aged the craft prematurely, making it appear far older than it actually was. The deadly rain had strengthened to a downpour. Rally's powered armor, her only protection against the alien deluge, was now enveloped in a shroud of steam as the rain ate away at everything it touched. Perhaps this had all been for nothing, but there was no more time to debate the issue. Rally ducked through the open hatch and into the dry shelter of the cavernous ship. Whatever secrets the relic might hold, there was nowhere left to run.
The craft still had auxiliary power. Dim floodlights cast an unearthly crimson hue over the sterile interior. Rally took in the scene, struggling to make sense of it. Splatters of dried ichor were caked on the steel walls and floor. The mummified corpses of a dozen Fallen warriors lay strewn about. Some appeared partially eaten, their faces twisted into grotesque death masks. The rest were gaunt skeletons, flesh stretched tight over withered sinew and bone. Silent alarm sirens rotated from recesses in the ceiling, painting the area in a nauseating strobe effect. If there had ever been a human crew aboard, there was no sign of what had become of them. One motionless figure, larger than the rest, was slumped against a far corner. Rally felt the hairs on her neck stand up with realization. She strode to the corpse with an impending sense of dread. Four wiry arms, once capable of rending steel, now laid splayed in hopeless defeat. The creature's discarded helmet, tossed haphazardly nearby, bore a familiar zigzag gouge across its faceplate. There could be no mistake. She had seen this beast a thousand times in her nightmares. He had taken everything from her. Somehow, through some terrible cosmic joke, he now lay at her feet, mocking her even in death. She had been denied her vengeance.
Rally screamed her frustration into her stifling helmet. The sound reverberated in her ears, momentarily deafening her, but she was far past caring. Her mind was flooded with images from another time, of an innocent life snuffed out, memories of the death of a child she could not defend. Behind her, the hatch door slid shut of its own accord. The old Earth-ship, still possessed of power, filled the musty cabin with fresh oxygen, seemingly oblivious to its unlikely occupants. Ruby the shank hovered closer to her human master, sensing her pain. It chirped nervously, seeking to comfort her but fearing her impending wrath. Rally sunk to her knees, no longer able to stand under the weight of such loss and remorse. Her armor crackled with arc-rage, searing the artificial air around her. She clenched her fist tightly, drawing upon the old joy of harnessed anguish. She had come here seeking answers, but she knew now she would find none here. She would have no redemption, nor even revenge. She had nothing left.
Rally turned to the shank, suddenly aware of the loyal little drone, her only remaining friend. "Get away from me", she muttered, affecting her fiercest tone. Ruby chirped a confused reply, but hovered in place. Rally's mind reeled with thoughts of the man she had once loved, a man she should love even now, and the perfect daughter they had shared. The shank moved closer, multicolored lights blinking a concerned reply. She shoved it aside, consumed with grief but afraid of what she might do. Shaking with impotent rage, she drew her trusty revolver from its magnetic holster. It was heavily pitted and scored, mementos of countless desperate firefights. She was alone out here, at the edge of the Darkness. If she were to die here, would anyone know or care? Perhaps she should just end it all. Every day was nothing but pain and loss. Even the brief spark she had felt with Vane had faded. She still loved him, but did he feel the same? Had he ever? There was no more reason to fight. She raised the bulky weapon and gritted her teeth.
Long seconds passed. Rally cursed herself for her cowardice. She could not even bring herself to carry out this one final act, something so simple and sure. Trembling, she let the gun clatter to the floor, the sound ringing in her ears in the enclosed compartment. Red sirens still flashed overhead, accentuating the uncomfortable silence that followed. In frustration, she lashed out, driving her fist into the steel wall in front of her. Augmented by her armor, the blow left a massive indentation where it landed and sent a shockwave up her arm. She flexed her numb fingers, grateful at least for the momentary distraction. As if on cue, perhaps jolted to life by the impact, a previously-dark viewscreen flickered on nearby. Rally stood and walked over to it, intrigued. Ruby hovered over to rest in air behind her right shoulder, chirping a happy tune at its master's apparent change of demeanor. Lime-green font appeared on the screen, displaying a cryptic message:
Once there were two of us, Everman and Neverman. Everman had everything ever and never a moment to spend with it. Neverman had nothing at all and ever a moment to long for it. Neverman waited till ever was through, now Neverman's Everman too.
Rally stared at the screen for a few moments, perplexed. Whatever meaning the message held was completely lost on her. She let out an exasperated sigh. She glanced around the mostly empty compartment, populated only by the shriveled corpses of the Fallen. There were gouges along many of the panels lining the room, with some of them having been pried open, clearly with great effort. The corpses were bereft of any muscle tissue, as if from starvation. Though they had been preserved in the airtight ship, these were clearly not remnants from centuries past. Rally estimated the bodies had been here for a few years at most. How was that possible? This one, the big captain…she had known him. She was certain that whatever life she and Vane had once shared must have taken place in the distant past before the Collapse, before everything changed. He should have died ages ago, so what was he doing here? None of this made any sense. Perhaps this entire trip had been for nothing. She retrieved her weapon and returned it to its holster, once more feeling utterly defeated.
She glanced at the sealed hatch, having forgotten all about it. There was no control panel to interface with, just a blank, featureless wall. Rally felt her heart rise in her chest as she realized she was now trapped inside. She slumped against the viewscreen and groaned. This had been quite a day. Suddenly, the monitor displayed a new message. As she read it, she didn't know why, but it filled her with an intense and gnawing fear.
Hello, little one. What are you doing out there, so very far from home?