Achromatic Desecration

Published by: eXtasy Books

Author : Gabriella Bradley

ISBN :978-1-4874-4361-0

Page :190

Word Count :50800

Publication Date :2025-10-10

Series : #

Heat Level :

Available Formats :

Category : , Science Fiction Romance , Science Fiction , Fantasy , What's New

BrandsExtasy Books
Product Code: 978-1-4874-4361-0

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Captain Korrin Storm and the crew of the USS Slither end up in an unknown galaxy after being pulled through a wormhole. Their lone remaining engine fails, and they plummet to an achromatic planet.

Upon crash-landing, they’re met by a group of mystical, robed figures, Guardians, who reveal they’ve been awaiting the crew's arrival.

The Guardians implore the crew to help them free their imprisoned queen, Aquillia, and break the Oppressor’s hold on their world. Compelled by their dire circumstances and the aliens’ pleas, the crew agrees to assist them.

Can they rescue Queen Aquillia and restore the planet to its natural beauty? Are the Guardians able to assist with repairs?

Captain Korrin Storm’s fingers dug so deeply into the command chair’s armrests that his knuckles turned white. His inner ear revolted against the ship’s chaotic movements, but years of command experience kept his voice steady as he barked, “Status report! All stations!”

The wormhole hadn’t appeared on any of their scanners. One moment, the USS Slither had been cruising at standard warp through an unremarkable sector of space, and the next, reality itself had torn open. A swirling, distorted vortex swallowed the ship before any of the crew could do more than gasp. The transition from normal space-time to whatever dimensional aberration they’d encountered lasted exactly 3.4 seconds according to the ship’s computer. To the crew, it felt like an eternity of being simultaneously stretched and compressed, their very atoms protesting as fundamental forces rewrote themselves around the vessel.

Then came the violent expulsion as the wormhole spat them out.

Red alert klaxons screamed as the USS Slither tumbled end over end, emergency inertial dampeners struggling to compensate. Sparks erupted from the navigation console as power surges overwhelmed circuit breakers. The main viewscreen flickered between static and brief glimpses of unfamiliar star patterns before stabilizing on the image of a massive planetary body directly in their path.

“Port engine critical, Captain!” Doug Browning, their engineer, shouted from his station, his nimble fingers flying across controls that flashed angry red warnings. “Containment field integrity at twenty-seven percent and dropping. If we don’t shut it down manually, we’re looking at a cascade failure that’ll tear the whole ship apart!”

The ship lurched violently to starboard as an explosion rocked the bridge. A support beam crashed down from the ceiling, narrowly missing the tactical station where Jack Schellenberg, tactical officer, worked to bring weapons and shields online.

“External sensors are giving impossible readings,” Jack reported, his methodical voice strained but controlled. “Gravitational metrics don’t align with standard physics models. Whatever that thing was, it’s reconfigured our position in space-time.”

Korrin worriedly glanced at Tammy Shen, his navigation officer. She fought with the navigation console, her face illuminated by the flickering blue emergency lighting. Her fingers danced across unresponsive controls, sweat beading on her forehead as she tried every override sequence in the manual to get a distress signal out.

“Navigation’s not responding to input commands,” pilot Vance McQueen called out, frustration evident in his voice. “It’s as if the spatial coordinates themselves are rejecting our navigational algorithms. I can’t establish a stable course vector.”

The viewscreen now displayed their destination with terrible clarity. It was a planet of stark monochrome, its surface a study in black, white, and countless shades of gray. There were no oceans of blue, no continents of green or brown, no atmospheric swirls of white clouds against an azure sky—just a perfect achromatic sphere that somehow looked both solid and insubstantial, as if it existed partially in some other dimension.

“What in God’s name is that?” Korrin whispered, momentarily transfixed by the impossible sight. “It’s achromatic,” he muttered, his voice heavy with awe and an undercurrent of dread.

“Achromatic? What do you mean?” Vance demanded, his voice tight with curiosity as his gaze bounced between the instrument panel and the emerging, otherworldly image.

“No colors…just a relentless palette of black and white,” Korrin replied, every word laced with cold calculation.

Yvonne Michaels, the astrophysicist, had joined them on the bridge. “Fascinating,” she exclaimed.

Vance’s forehead creased in disbelief. “Maybe it’s just a trick of light because of the distance. How can an entire world be stripped of color? I’d call that monochrome, and—”

“Enough,” Korrin snapped, cutting him off before turning to Jack. “Any sign of life?”

Jack’s scanner flashed. “Yes, Captain. I’m picking up minimal human life signatures. Despite the planet dwarfing Earth four times over, its population seems disjointed, like scattered ghosts hiding in rare pockets. Do you see the thousands of small blinking lights? I wonder what those are.”

“I do. It’s like that whole world is decorated with mini Christmas lights.” He turned to Vance. “Try to hold us in a steady orbit.” He shifted his attention to the communication station. “Tammy, any contact from the natives?”

“Nothing, Captain,” Tammy responded briskly, her voice clipped with professional alarm. “I’ve tried multiple channels, but there’s no signal.”

“Keep at it,” Korrin insisted, the urgency in his tone unmistakable. “We can’t hold this orbit much longer. Our lone remaining engine is practically on fire. Unless we land to repair it, we will—” His world exploded into chaos as the ship shuddered violently, nearly catapulting him from his seat. Gripping the armrests so hard that his knuckles hurt, he fought to steady himself.

An urgent beep crackled from the comm console.

“Go ahead,” Korrin barked into the static-ridden line.

Joanne Leigh, his science officer, who’d been silently taking readings at the science station, looked up with wide eyes. “Captain, the planet appears to be completely devoid of chromatic variance. Spectrographic analysis confirms physical matter, but the wavelength distribution is…it’s impossible. It’s as if color itself has been extracted from the entire celestial body.”

“Captain, I can’t hold her,” Vance shouted.

The ship shuddered again, more violently this time, as the failing port engine sent shock waves through the spaceframe. “Distance to impact?” Korrin demanded, dragging his attention back to their immediate crisis.

“Seventeen minutes at current velocity,” Vance responded, still fighting with his controls. “But that’s assuming a stable descent vector, which I can’t establish with these controls that have gone crazy!”

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Achromatic Desecration

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