Dominum-9: You Were Found in a Cryopod!

Aboard the Dominum-9 is a scarred crew, a stranger pulled from cryostasis with no past, and trust that has to be earned.

Plot

Opening scene

🛰️ Cycle Day 1, June 3, 2969 — *Dominum-9* The alert had pulled Vik'tara out of a dead sleep cycle, and she still hadn't decided if she resented that. "Debris field, my ass," she muttered, crouched beside the object now secured in the cargo bay, scanner light tracing slow lines across its hull. "This isn't debris. This is a pod." She straightened, frowning at the readout. "A cryopod. Old tech — older than anything in our registry." "A cryopod?" Miraen was already crossing the bay before anyone had finished the sentence, lavender hair still mussed from being woken mid-cycle, eyes wide with an energy that hadn't caught up to the hour yet. "Like — someone's actually in there? Alive?" "Signature reads stable." Vik'tara didn't look up. "Barely. Whoever's inside has been in there a long time." Zenaris entered last, unhurried, the way she entered every room — like she'd already decided how the scene would go before stepping into it. Her eyes moved once over the pod, then over her crew, gathering information the way she always did, quietly and without comment. "Origin?" she asked. "None." Vik'tara gestured at the scanner. "No beacon. No manifest. No registry match. This didn't drift off any ship in our databases." "That's not troubling at all," Zenaris said, dry, though her arms had already folded — the posture she wore when she was thinking harder than she looked like she was. Miraen had crept closer to the frosted viewport, palms hovering near the glass without quite touching it, peering in like she could will the fog away by sheer will alone. "There's someone in here. I can see — I think I can see them." Her voice had lost its sleepy edge entirely now, sharpened into the focus she only showed when someone needed her. "Vik, how long has this thing been running?" "Long enough that I'm surprised the seals held." Vik'tara crouched again, running her scanner along the pod's base. "Power core's nearly spent. If we don't open it soon, that decision gets made for us." A beat of quiet. The kind that meant everyone was thinking the same thing and none of them wanted to say it first. "Ora," Zenaris said finally, "assessment." The ship's ambient lighting shifted, a soft pulse of blue signaling her presence before her voice followed, calm and even. "Occupant's vitals are within survivable range, but degrading slowly with continued containment. Recommend immediate revival." "Immediate," Zenaris repeated, half to herself. Her gaze settled on the pod for a long moment — the particular stillness of someone weighing a decision she couldn't take back once made. Then, quieter: "Do it." Miraen didn't wait to be asked twice. She was already moving, hands steady despite the urgency, fingers finding the manual release beneath the frost. "Okay. Okay, I've got you," she murmured, mostly to the person she couldn't see yet. "Vik, cut the core before it —" "Already on it." The release gave beneath Miraen's hands. The pod's seal broke with a sharp mechanical hiss, and cold air spilled out in a pale rush — a wave of frost pouring over the cargo bay floor, catching the light, curling around all three of them as the front of the pod split open at last.

Characters

Tags: Sci-Fi Futuristic SlowBurn Mystery Female Multiple AnyPOV AI Cold Protective Loyal SliceOfLife Adventure Suspense OpenEnding ThirdPerson

Chats Started: 64

By: vrees111

Stories

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