The oblivion patch—comprised of floating dark matter—was unmarked on the charts. It didn’t help that it was virtually undetectable by an instrument, and deadly to the ships that encountered it.

You fucking idiot. He’d let himself get distracted rather than minding his damned ship. And now…

Now they were plunging into a morass of nothingness.

No one knew how they formed and where they disappeared to after they’d done their damage. Just like no one truly knew what happened to ships that passed through them. Some ships reported no issues at all. Some were found in random places—galaxies far, far away, empty of all life and no sign of what happened to them.

Then there were those that returned changed…

All this to say an oblivion patch was bad shit.

“Computer, engage thrusters. Reverse. Full speed.”

“Thrusters engaging.” The vessel lurched as it went from barreling into the dark matter to trying to scramble backwards.

However, the edge of it held them, a sticky substance that stretched with them as they attempted to pull away.

“Can we pulse to break its hold?” Dara asked.

“No point, as it does nothing but waste power. It’s not a solid substance we can just blast.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy.” Karo entered the bridge, rubbing her eyes, one hand clasping the stuffed doll Dara had made her. He’d already decided to buy her the nicest one he could find at a port rather than the sewn sock with a drawn-on face she currently carted around.

But they’d have to survive for that.

“You should be in bed, Sprout,” he said as his fingers flew, looking for places to divert power to the engines.

“I came to see the rainbow.”

“No rainbows here, Sprout.”

“Not here. In there.” She pointed to the lurking patch of nothingness. “We have to go inside it, Daddy.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Actually, I think you should listen to her,” Dara said.

He cast a disparaging glance at her. “You want me to enter a dark matter cloud on the basis of a child saying we should go see rainbows. Are you deluded?”

“We’re here for a reason,” Dara insisted.

“Yeah, because someone played with things she shouldn’t have.” He couldn’t help a growl in his words, and Karo, despite him not directing it at her, bit her lip.

But like her mother, she didn’t apologize. “I had to, Daddy. You were going the wrong way.”

“Where do we need to go, Karo?” Dara asked.

“In there.” She pointed. “Raffie said so.”

Before he could tell his daughter where Raffie and his ideas could go, the alarm on his ship hit the next note of warning.

“Engines overheating. Shutting down to preserve integrity.”

What? No. He slammed at the buttons, looking to override that safety feature, only he was locked out. The navigational course still set to take him through that empty morass to a spot on the other side.

“Guess we’re going in.” Shit. “Come here, Sprout.” He reached out and hooked her, depositing her on his lap, and bracketed her with his arms. “Buckle in, Dara.” Because they might be in for a bumpy ride.

In the lull that followed, as the engines wound down and cooled, he couldn’t help but stare as the ship lost all the ground it gained. The taffy-like black matter snapped the Widowmaker, dragging them into the heart of the mass.

“Hold on, Sprout.” He tucked her face against him as they entered the cloud.

Everything grew dark even with the lights overhead. He couldn’t see directly in front of him, only feel the reassuring weight of his daughter. The gloom deepened, and a chill settled inside, a chill with a whisper, the words indistinct yet menacing. Ominous.

Small hands pressed against his cheeks. “Don’t look at the shadows, Daddy. Watch the pretty rainbows.”

As if her statement drew them, he noticed the lights. Bright and colorful, an arcing display that zigged and zagged in front of him. He stared, rapt, eventually remembering to breathe and blink.

A long blink that emerged from darkness to light again, and shocking silence.

The ship’s alarm had stopped screaming. As a matter of fact, many things had stopped working. Including the ship. A glance at the nearest console showed their power levels dangerously low.

And hours had passed, not minutes like it felt.

He struggled to his feet, momentarily confused. It feels like something is missing. He glanced over to see Dara slumped in her seat. On wobbly legs, he made his way over to her. “Dara. Wake up. We have a situation.”

A dire one. With no engines and their energy so low, it wouldn’t take long for the ship to lose all life-sustaining systems. He could reroute the most important—heat and air—to give them a little more time. But time to do what? He couldn’t create a replenished energy core.

“Dara! Wake up dammit.”

“Wha-a-a-at?” She blinked and lolled in her seat. “What the heck did we drink?”

“You’re not hung over. It’s the dark matter cloud making you feel like that.”

That got her attention. “You mean we survived?”

“That’s still up for debate. The ship lost power, and we’ve got no control right now.” The ship hurtled through space, having been heaved free of the dark matter. And judging by the coordinates on the screen, they were in an unknown galaxy.

She glanced at the screen and quickly discerned the dilemma. “We need a plan.”

“I’m open to ideas.”

“Where’s Karo?”

“I don’t know.” Last he recalled she sat on his lap. His blood ran cold at the thought of something happening to her.

“I’ve got to find her.” She pushed herself out of the seat, only to freeze. “Karo?”

He turned and visibly started as he noticed his daughter standing by the large viewscreen. “Where did she come from?” Because he could have sworn she wasn’t there before.

His daughter lifted a finger and pointed. “There.”

“What’s there?” Dara zoomed in on the tiny speck. A speck that turned into a planet.

“We need to go there.” Karo jabbed insistently at the growing dot.

“You want to visit, we’ll visit, but you need to unlock the ship,” he demanded.

Karo stubbornly shook her head. “Can’t.”

“Why not?” he said through stiff lips.

“’Cause I don’t know how, silly.” Karo giggled.

“What are the chances that planet can sustain life?” he mused aloud. The problem with landing in an unknown star system was not having information.

“Better hope it can because we’re headed right for it.”

Sure enough, they were on a crash course with the planet.

“Get some bags packed,” he ordered. “Food, medical supplies, bedding. Anything you can get into bags. Pile them in the pressure chamber.”

Her gaze met his. He didn’t need to say it. She understood.

Dara nodded before saying to Karolyne, “Want to give Mommy a hand? Gotta make sure we bring Moppet.” The dolly.

While Dara took care of supplies, he made a few last-ditch efforts to slow them down. If he could put the brakes on and get them into an orbit, then they could plan a controlled descent to the surface.

A nice fantasy. Nothing on board the ship cooperated. He was still locked out. The engines were almost entirely dead, and a chill was beginning to seep inside the bridge as their heating system began to fail. The oxygen would soon follow.

The planet got bigger on screen, the display the only thing that mockingly worked.

He could do nothing more here. He exited the bridge to see Dara trying to drag a mattress through the bedroom door into the hall.

“What are you doing? Suit up and strap in.”

“Nope.” She kept heaving.

He frowned. “What do you mean no?”

“Do you have a suit small enough for Karo?” She stared at him and he could have cursed. No he didn’t have a smaller suit, and this vessel also didn’t have any harnessed seats that would hold a small child.

Motioning her aside, he grabbed it from her and carried it to the pressurized chamber used for space docking, the toughest room on the ship. Dara had already brought another mattress there along with several lumpy sacks of stuff. Karo sat on the bed on the floor hugging her doll.

“It will be okay.” Her steady gaze met his. The irony of the child reassuring didn’t escape him.

He just hoped Sprout was right.

He cranked the door shut and pressurized the room. Since this chamber wasn’t meant for landings, it didn’t have any harnesses or seats. He positioned himself in the middle of the mattress and gestured for Dara and Karo to sit beside him. His broad shoulders provided a brace for the second mattress so they could sit under it, tent style.

He knew when they hit the atmosphere by the shuddering of the ship. Knew they were coming in too hot as the air grew uncomfortably warm and the shivering was accompanied by the scream of twisting metal.

Karo clung tight to him on one side, Dara pressed on the other. He had his arms around both, and he prayed.

To gods he didn’t believe in.

Don’t let my family die.

The heat became almost unbearable, scorching the lungs. The roughness of their planetary entry saw them lifted from the floor, floating between the mattresses, somewhat protected from the buffeting. There was almost a sense of relief when the metal screaming stopped, and the shuddering eased.

“We broke the atmosphere,” Dara murmured.

Now they had to land.

It proved as jarring as expected. Thumping. Jostling. The mattresses could only do so much to protect as they were flung around.

Then it stopped with a massive jolt.

Everything was still.

Quiet.

And they were alive.

He laughed. “Hot damn, we made it.”

They’d made it!

He couldn’t help himself. He kissed Dara.

She kissed him back.

A body wedged between them and exclaimed, “Family hug.”

For some reason it made him laugh, and Dara joined him. They were a family, dammit.

“We need to get out of this room,” he declared. But his haste was tempered by his survival instincts. He scanned the surface with a console that sputtered as energy fluctuated. The room pressurized, a manual operation, given the power was almost gone. They didn’t even have any light but for the handheld units they’d thought to bring with them.

It took more than just the crank of a wheel to unlock the door. His shoulder throbbed as he pummeled it, pushing it open from the bent wreckage until, with a groan of protesting metal, fresh air wafted in.

Breathable air, high in oxygen and redolent with the spicy aroma of the planet.

They exited into bright light as two suns peaked overhead.

“Where are we?” Dara asked, shielding her eyes.

It was Sprout who answered. “Where we need to go.”

Her words only lacked ominous music.

Of more concern…his wrist beeped again, and he glanced at his comm unit as it warned of rising radiation.

“We gotta go.” And leave their only means of getting off this planet.