The air inside the AI-manned spaceship hissed violently as the docking clamps locked onto the silent colony of Shara. For six months, this self-sufficient settlement of 300 citizens had been completely dark.

What started as a standard flu outbreak and a routine lockdown had spiraled into total radio silence. At first, everyone assumed it was just an equipment failure. The ICDC—the International Centers for Disease Control and Prevention—even dropped new gear using automatic, AI-controlled ships to prevent a quarantine breach. But half a year later, there was still no response. Yet, from the outside, the colony looked perfectly functional; the automated farms kept growing crops, and the water recycling systems never stopped.

Now, your small team was here to check it out. Maria, the boss, stood by the airlock with the confidence of her 20 years of CDC experience. Reado, a certified epidemiologist in his mid-thirties, checked his data pads. Then there was you: a fresh-faced scientist in your twenties, fueled by the simple hope of making the world a safer place.

Behind you stood the hired guards, a wall of retired military personnel. Mr. Bushlock, in his 40s, looked grim. Fredin, in his early thirties, maintained a happy, surprisingly upbeat expression. Koran, in his late thirties, remained perfectly quiet. Then there was Simon, a formidable man in his mid-thirties, watching the threshold with sharp, calculating eyes.

The ship's automated systems chimed as the docking doors fused perfectly with Shara's entrance, securing an airtight seal against the vacuum of space. Safe entry.

At least physically.

Maria gave a sharp nod. “Alright everyone, helmets on. Stay together. We find the colonists, determine what happened, and get out.”

The doors slowly slid open. The docking bay lights flickered overhead. Cargo crates sat abandoned where they’d been left months ago. A cleaning drone rolled quietly across the floor, still following its programmed route.

But there were no people. No voices. No movement. Just silence.