Tales From The Drift: The Monolith

Wednesday, July 7, 2021

From low atmospheric orbit, the crashed starship could have easily been mistaken for some great beast, slain in the heat of battle. Its trajectory had cut a fiery and destructive swathe through thick jungle, and here and there small bits of flame still licked at the foliage, the steaming soil smoldering from the heat of the starship’s unexpected collision, ending at its broken corpse. The hull had been nearly rent in two upon impact, and shorn wiring, ducting, loose crates, and coolant spilled from within like mechanical viscera.

As the day bled into twilight, from within the darkness of the starship’s carcass, a life pod beeped rapidly. Kasa took a pained gasp as she regained consciousness. She moved stiffly, feeling the distant ache of what might have been a grievous injury. The life pod had flooded her system with medical stabilizers, a failsafe to ensure functionality in the event of a crash. As Kasa’s mental defenses churned into place, laced with the glittering edge of the medical stimulant’s side-effects, she knew somehow that things couldn’t possibly get much worse.

For a while, she lay in the coffin-snug pod that had saved her life, her breath loud and metallic, her ears straining to hear anything beyond from the stillness of her tight confinement. Wherever the ship had made planetfall, she was likely safest in the life pod for the time being. Kasa’s mind raced. Her eyes grew bleary with the threat of tears as panic took hold in the illogical part of her brain. She blinked them away, taking a deep breath and slowly counting objects within her view, a tool she adopted long ago to help regain her composure when stressed. She was a scientist, first and foremost, and that meant shedding fear of the unknown by making it known.

With a grunt, Kasa found the panel along the wall near her thigh, fingertips gliding over the interface to release the magnetic locks. The life pod’s lid slid aside with a hiss, and she gingerly hauled herself over the lip and waited for her vision to adjust to the darkness of the life support chamber. Blinking as shapes came into sharper focus, the shadows slowly brightening to shades of illuminated gray, Kasa made her way aft, stealing glances at the other life pods, all empty or crushed, she noted with dismay.

As a scientist, she hadn’t been needed on the bridge and thus had no idea where in the universe they—no, it was only she who remained—could be. She knew, as the silence of isolation stretched ever onward during her tentative search, that anybody who could answer such a question had been killed in the impact. What magic or science could divine her location and see to her rescue was lost for now. Perhaps even for good.

It took her the better part of an hour to dig through the med-bay, salvaging what stimulant packs she could find. The armory had survived the crash, as had its door, which remained barred to her without proper authorization. Kasa stared at the flickering interface, which flashed warnings and reported on various system malfunctions that could be distilled into a single message: without brute force or proper authorization overrides, she would find no weapons here.

That first night under alien stars, she was fitful and skittish. Several times she nodded off, until fear exhausted her and she shut her eyes out of necessity.

Dawn came on suddenly, and Kasa was reminded that this world, its atmosphere, its sun—or suns—were all variables in the new problem that unfolded before her. She blinked wearily as her dry, exhausted eyes pricked in the alien air. With a grunt, she unfurled herself from her crouch, stretching and shouldering her pack. If the shuttle bay was intact, there was bound to be something working. She rationalized that it had to be so; no circumstances could be so dire, after all. Unfortunately, her path to the shuttle bay was too obstructed for her to climb through, and she realized she would finally have to go outside and see if another path presented itself. She backtracked but found that the only way out would be up, through the ship’s now-open overhead. Beyond, she could only see the forest canopy, still but for the occasional rustle of leaves, the cries of unfamiliar fauna.

Grimly, Kasa began her ascent, using the ship’s exposed wiring to haul herself up and onto the outer hull. It was a great effort, and had any been there to witness her summit, they would have found her sprawled across the sun-warmed hull, catching her breath before she finally sitting up to look around.

All around her was dense, writhing jungle: trees as tall as towers, with thick, obdurate vines crawling possessively around their trunks and boasting vivid blossoms with pollen-rich stamen. Try as she might to place the flora around her, nothing in the catalogue of her mind recalled even the slightest comfort of familiarity. She shielded her eyes against the harsh glare of the sunlight that beat through the treetops and discerned, just barely visible through the overgrowth, a trail. It may have been abandoned, but a trail meant this place was once inhabited, and that would suffice.

Fear of the unknown gave way to Kasa’s inherent curiosity, and she picked a path along the curve of the ship’s hull toward the shuttle bay. Much of the vessel had broken apart in the crash, and she made short work of climbing down into the massive bay. The collapsed half of the starboard bulkhead had taken all but one of the three Explorer vehicles with it, but the remaining Explorer sat almost pristine, save for a single crack along the window shielding. Kasa let herself smile at the first good news she’d had since waking up.

A scared female half-elf in a flight suit stares up at a strange technological construction amidst ancient jungle ruins.

Illustration by Victor Manuel Leza Moreno from Starfinder Galaxy Exploration Manual

Kasa ripped through the jungle in the Explorer for hours, following the ancient overgrown path. She took her time, checking for signs of intelligent life, and for a while she thought all she would find would be jungle. But then the path opened into a wider avenue; not quite paved, but clearly marked by the deliberate imprint of civilization. She brought the Explorer to a halt, peering through the windows to see jungle give way to more deliberate architecture. This ruin, though empty of all life, was the surest sign of someone having lived here. Kasa popped the hatch and climbed out of the vehicle to have a look around.

Whatever else this was, it was a discovery—one that none but the forgotten ghosts of those who once called this place home would bear witness. Kasa lamented not being able to salvage her research equipment as she stood in the clearing, taking in the moss-draped, domed towers like ancient mushrooms and arched doorways that stood like portals to another world, waiting to be opened. Though the ruin had collapsed around them, surrendering to the jungle, these remained, all seemingly built for beings much larger than she.

“Giants?” She wondered incredulously, her first word in hours, voice dry and reedy from disuse. She turned a slow circuit, once again frowning at her inability to recognize any of the architecture, its design at once ancient but still entirely too alien for her to get even an echo of familiarity from it. Something about the jungle here was quieter, as if the order once imposed upon it still lingered, beating back all save the hapless moss that crawled along the ancient stone. She soon saw why.

The thing—the monolith—was massive, jutting from the ground like a spear, and indeed was so anachronistic in comparison to its surroundings that Kasa wondered how it wasn’t the first thing she noticed. It was metal of some kind, she could tell from first glance, emanating soft blue light from the markings along its surface. Unlike the rest of the structures, it didn’t seem to warp to the ruinous touch of time, and the vines of the jungle barely forayed onto its massive base, as if the jungle itself were hesitant to claim the invasive structure. Kasa craned her neck to peer upward. Its length seemed to vanish beyond the forest canopy, bathing her in its light.

Tentatively, she raised a hand, reaching out toward it. Perhaps it was an interface, albeit an ancient one. There could be no harm in a simple touch.

There was a sudden rustle, and bursting from the copse of trees beyond the ruin came several avian-simian creatures, taking wing in unison. Fleeing.

Kasa took one more glance at the monolith, rummaging in her pack for a datapad she’d salvaged from the wreckage. The device flashed cheerful yellow warnings that there was no communications node available for outside access, but she could still use the local capabilities. She did her best to scan and document the relic before her, sweat prickling the nape of her neck as she began to realize that she was no longer alone in the ruins, and that whoever—or whatever—had sent the creatures into startled flight would be upon her soon.

She turned, backing up to the monolith, the security of its solidity offering her the only comfort and protection she could find in this alien world. With her head against it, she could hear it thrumming—a faint, rhythmic buzzing that seemed to come from deep underground, wherever the spire’s roots held it firm to the jungle floor. Beyond that sound, Kasa heard and saw nothing. The alien creatures had fled, leaving her alone with the monolith.

As suddenly as lightning, the thrumming stopped, and in its place—in her mind—Kasa heard, felt, a high-pitched shriek. There were words in the cry, or the feeling, the meaning, behind words.

Help us,” they pled. “Help us, Kasa! Free us…before it returns.”

About the Author

Hajara Mahmud is a bard of many talents, including that of a professional musician and dancer. They hold a degree in English and Creative Writing, with a concentration in fiction, and have been published in the University of Michigan Press’ textbook, A Tumblr Book: Platform & Cultures as a contributing essayist. Hajara believes there is no greater freedom than the potential of a good story that’s yet to be told and finds that joy at the crossroads of their two greatest loves: good food and the comforting potential of a blank Scrivener document. They can be found in the chattering void known as Twitter: @dajiruhu.

About Tales from the Drift

The Tales from the Drift series of web-based flash fiction provides an exciting glimpse into the setting of the Starfinder Roleplaying Game. Written by members of the Starfinder development team and some of the most celebrated authors in tie-in gaming fiction, the Tales from the Drift series promises to explore the worlds, alien cultures, deities, history, and organizations of the Starfinder setting with engaging stories to inspire Game Masters and players alike.

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Tags: Galaxy Exploration Manual Starfinder Starfinder Roleplaying Game Tales from the Drift Web Fiction

3 people marked this as a favorite.

This could either go fantastic or extremely poorly for Kasa. Either way, she's got a decision to make. Face whatever beast is coming for her on her own without weapons or try and help whatever is trapped in the Monolith.


^And how do you know that whatever is in the Monolith isn't up to no good?

(And: Are the dimensions of the Monolith in the proportions 1:4:9?)


1 person marked this as a favorite.
UnArcaneElection wrote:
^And how do you know that whatever is in the Monolith isn't up to no good?

I never implied it was! For all Kasa knows, that monolith is a dimensional prison holding an entire legion of ancient giant alien conquerors in check and the beast coming to attack Kasa is the prison's warden.

Either way Kasa acts, it's a gamble, but then again space is a dangerous place and Kasa took the risks as soon as she stepped onto the ship before it crashed onto an uncharted planet!


. . . And we still need to find out why the ship crashed in the first place . . . .


This is exactly why a maxed out sense motive can avoid unnecessary problems.


Berselius wrote:
UnArcaneElection wrote:
^And how do you know that whatever is in the Monolith isn't up to no good?

I never implied it was! For all Kasa knows, that monolith is a dimensional prison holding an entire legion of ancient giant alien conquerors in check and the beast coming to attack Kasa is the prison's warden.

Either way Kasa acts, it's a gamble, but then again space is a dangerous place and Kasa took the risks as soon as she stepped onto the ship before it crashed onto an uncharted planet!

The monolith has been standing there for a long time, so not interacting with it further is not really a gamble. No matter if the creature protects the monolith or is just a random beast, moving far away from there would mean that it won't follow.

So the only question is, would interacting with the monolith make a rescue more likely or offer an escape from that planet?

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