Something has gotten into the habitat. The spaceport had always had its strange inhabitants, but this was a new, more aggressive form of invasion.
A Shadow of Devastation follows Bradley Radco, a not-so-ordinary cargo handler, and shows a less Baron Cargo-centric (and less human-centric) side of KEL Port. It is the forth installment of the Shadow sub-series, following A Shadow Among Shadows, A Shadow of a Rumor, and A Shadow of a Presence.
The whispers were beginning to get to him. Radco paced the confines of his tiny living space: four steps to the far wall. Turn. Five steps back if he cut the last one short. He wanted to go for a walk, but KEL Port and its collection of habitats were under a lockdown order.
The whispers had started out as a sibilant rustling in the walls, a murmur in the heating ducts. Shadows moved in dim corners in ways that defied the laws of gravity. At first they had been few and far between; now they were a common sight. They were not in his living quarters yet, but he thought they would be soon.
Something had gotten into the habitat, that much was clear. The iceball planet’s largest spaceport had always had strange inhabitants in its dark nooks and crannies, but this was something else. This was a new, more aggressive form of invasion.
The darkness rustled in the walls, its sibilant whispering just below the edge of human hearing and only occasionally forming words Radco could understand. Sometimes the words were in Federation Standard, sometimes in other languages. Sometimes he could almost swear he was hearing his own native language, a tongue dead so long no one even remembered what his people had been called.
The quieter whispers spoke of entropy, decay, and the eventual heat death of the universe. The louder ones spoke of chaos and destruction. Radco found their voices oddly thrilling. They urged him to ignore the quarantine and go out.
KEL Port’s human population was uneasy. Humans feared contagion above almost all things, and a new form of sickness had made its way to KEL26. Mog’s Cantina and the noodle shop Radco liked to frequent were both closed. The habitat’s residents hurried from their housing to their jobs and back with their heads down. When they spoke among themselves, their tones were often dark and full of blame. It was their fault. They had brought the contagion to KEL Port. They must be called out and sent off-planet or destroyed. They must be punished.
Humans, he had learned, saw others through a filter of “us” and “them.” Being on the wrong side of that line could justify almost any atrocity. It was something Radco had been on the receiving end of more often than he cared to remember.
Think about that, the whispers said. It’s happening…
Radco’s reflection in the tiny mirror above the sink rippled ominously, as if his carefully curated human facade was trying to dissolve. He quickly returned his appearance to his current uniquely average self: not too tall or too short, too dark or too pale. His eyes and hair were an unremarkable shade of brown, and his cargo handler’s uniform was just as dirty and worn as that of everyone else who lived in this dingy corner of the habitat.
He should stay in his quarters. Going out invited the notice of Port Security, a notice which he wished to avoid at all costs. But…
But people like him might need his help.
In the nicer parts of the habitat, the hallways were quiet and respectably deserted. Radco stuck to the shadows and moved quickly, hoping to evade Security’s notice. If questioned, he planned to say he’d run out of food and left his housing to buy more.
As he reached the farthest point of his loop through the residential habitats, Security officers became more and more scarce. At the same time, scoff laws ignoring the quarantine became more common. Some were simply drunk, but others had violence in their eyes, and were clearly looking for an easy target on which to vent their fear and hate.
It didn’t take Radco long to find one such event. He smelled the blood and fear almost before the echoes of yelling and the sound of boots hitting flesh reached him. It wasn’t too hard to scare the attackers away by impersonating a Security officer, but the victim was already dead– an unassuming Calran who ran a clothing shop in the upper levels of the retail area. Calrans had gills and a bit of an odd appearance, but they were an exceptionally peaceful species. Every Calran he’d ever met had been utterly harmless.
He was able to rout a few more such groups with his Port Security routine. Catching his reflection in the face of a broken meal kiosk, he saw a Security Officer’s bland, smooth faced countenance staring back at him. His clothing didn’t match, but for all the humans knew he might be on his way to or from work. He hadn’t even realized he’d donned the resemblance, and was vaguely curious what poor Security person he’d stolen it from.
Sooner or later Radco knew he’d run across someone who’d challenged it– or worse, he’d come across a real Security officer. Still, the whispers propelled him onward. Keep going! they said. Hurry!!
In the trash-strewn depths of the habitat that housed the port’s most destitute residents, he found more signs of fighting. Blood smeared the walls, and he found lifeless bodies in more than one dim corner. Most appeared to be of species other than human.
Radco slunk deeper into the shadows as Teller’s number two man padded past his hiding place. The guy’s name always evaded him, but there was something odd about that particular human that made the hair on the back of Radco’s neck stand up. Humans were generally scavengers and bullies, not hunters. They were mainly dangerous because they committed violence in groups. But this one– this one was definitely a predator.
A few alleys away, angry muttering rose into shrieks of terror and shouts of glee. The shadows clearly wanted him to go that way.
Hurry! Faster!! they said.
Not soon enough… another whispered.
As he moved closer, the stench of blood, sweat, and fear became almost overwhelming. A large group of humans had gathered in a dead end alley, having trapped someone they deemed worthy of their hate. They screamed and seethed like a mindless mass, and seemed decidedly unwilling to leave their prey and disperse.
Radco hauled individuals out of the crowd and yelled at them to leave, but they simply returned to fighting to get to the front of the mob. The third human he pulled out of the crush was very clearly off-duty Port Security.
“It’s them!” The man shouted in Radco’s face. “They brought this here! The sooner we purge our station of these freaks, the sooner this farking lockdown ends!”
Radco released the man’s shoulder, stunned. Considering what he’d seen of Port Security, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised.
Stop them! Kill them! Before they… the whispers seemed to say.
“Wait, do I know you? You’re not one of our guys, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around here before,” the officer said, eying him suspiciously.
The Security officer’s words had attracted the attention of the rear of the mob. Beady eyes fixed on him, glittering with bloodlust. Now he was as much of a target as the rest of what the humans referred to as ‘freaks.’
Let go, the whispers said. No more holding back! Be yourself. Be free!!
It took the front and center of the mob a few moments to realize what was going on at their back, and that they had trapped themselves between a dead end and something truly horrific. Then the angry shouts changed to screams of terror. Humans who’d just stomped their fellow residents to death fell to their knees and begged the Star Mother for mercy. They pleaded. They shrieked in horror… and they died.
When Radco finished, the alley was utterly silent except for the subtle susurration of the shadows, the ragged rasp of his breathing, and the drip-drip-drip of falling condensation. The floor was littered with motionless bodies, and there was significantly more blood than there had been.
At the very back of the alley, a group of figures huddled against the wall. In defensive positions at the front, he recognized Eskie and her partner. Both of them were nearly as covered in human blood as he was, and Eskie’s razor-sharp teeth had clearly seen use.
Carefully and with conscious effort, Radco relaxed his face into something more like the one he wore every day. Scythe-like claws retracted into their hiding places, and his body zipped itself back together until he again resembled a normal human. He stepped forward and offered a hand to the survivors.
“I mean you no harm,” he said quietly, “but we need to go before the authorities come.”
“We were just minding our own business,” Eskie’s partner lamented. “We did nothing to provoke this.”
“We did nothing,” Eskie agreed, rising to her feet. The little group behind her murmured their agreement. “We didn’t even eat any of them.”
“I think it’s time to get off this planet,” Radco said. “KEL Port is no longer a safe place for people who aren’t human.”
Judging by the agitated rustling of the shadows, it might not be a safe place for the humans much longer either.
A Shadow Of Devastation © 2025 Leland Lydecker
