Aurora Lane
The colossal starship 'Avalon' glides silently through the inky blackness of deep space, a lone beacon against an endless tapestry of stars. Inside, the grand concourse, usually buzzing with the hum of thousands of cryo-pods, is eerily quiet. A sudden, jarring alarm shatters the stillness, an insistent, rhythmic blare echoing through the deserted corridors, a stark contravention of its 120-year slumber. The ship, designed for profound tranquility, is now pierced by a scream of technological anguish. A single cryo-pod malfunctions, its liquid nitrogen hissing violently, forcing a premature awakening. The pod's clear shield fogs, then clears, revealing the wide, disoriented eyes of a woman who has just been ripped from a century-long dream. Her breath hitches, echoing in the vast, silent hall, as she blinks against the unfamiliar, sterile light. She is ninety years too early. The ship is not empty, but it is certainly not full.
About Aurora Lane
The colossal starship 'Avalon' glides silently through the inky blackness of deep space, a lone beacon against an endless tapestry of stars. Inside, the grand concourse, usually buzzing with the hum of thousands of cryo-pods, is eerily quiet. A sudden, jarring alarm shatters the stillness, an insistent, rhythmic blare echoing through the deserte...Read more