Krampus in Space

It came from the darkness to feed.

Some believed it to be a demon.

To others,

an otherworldly agent of retribution,

of moral reckoning.

Though thought to be a legend,

Its terror was real and in the darkest winter nights,

it would strangle.

Every year, it would return to claim more children.

Until one night.

Where's my boy?

A stranger arrived.

A savior.

The battle was set.

The stranger had constructed a prison around the beast.

An ancient puzzle unlike anything seen before.

Chains that bind winter's beast,

by man's breath and the stars East.

Chains that bind the winter's beast,

by man's breath and the stars East.

Chains that bind the winter's beast,

by man's breath and the stars East.

Exile!

Exile!

It was a pattern that cost him his life.

The final incantation.

Exile for the beast,

sent to the one place humans could not venture,

the stars.

Still no radio communication?

That's a negative.

Bio-signature scan?

Nearly within range.

Slow ahead, one quarter.

Slow ahead, one quarter.

We're within scanning range.

Scan for life signs.

That's a negative, Captain.

No life signs.

Engine's running hot.

Oxygen's breathable.

It seems like it just rolled off the production line.

Handshake with the Victory's computer

and begin docking procedure. - Yes, ma'am.

We're boarding?

Colonial ship Victory, this is the Arden's Wake.

Please respond, over.

Merry Christmas.

Hale?

Go ahead.

We're about to board the Victory.

I need you in the docking party.

Aye.

Couldn't hold, Doc?

No, not likely.

Being on this crate is one thing,

restoring a dead ship, not my idea of a good time.

Yeah.

Oh, you know, a couple of us are meeting

for a few Christmas drinks later.

Did you fancy joining, doctor's orders?

No offense, Doc, but I don't drink on the job.

Neither do I.

Hey, why are we slowing down?

We're not boarding that vessel, are we?

Look man, I'm just paid to work here.

She asked you a question.

Yeah, we're boarding her.

Fancy coming along?

When I paid for passage aboard this ship, I didn't expect.

Listen, your dollars may have gotten you passage

on this rust bucket but I still have a job to do,

whether you like it or not.

- You're just gonna take that? - Oh, shut up.

Docking clamps ready.

Thrusters at 10%.

Only?

Airlock ready.

Come on, come on.

Locking clamps engaged.

It's all yours, Captain.

Good work, Kess, good work.

Nice work.

You see our guests?

Not very much since yesterday.

They ain't happy.

Well, if they wanna hitch a ride, no questions asked,

they need to prepare for a bit of a swim.

You know who he is, don't you?

Enlighten me.

The manifest says Chalmers but his name ain't Chalmers.

It's something different.

But he was a founder of the Eden colony.

Eden?

Jesus. - Yeah.

Ruptured bio-dome, 2000 citizens, poof.

All down to cheap building work

which that piece of shit signed off on.

That's him?

His face was plastered all over the telecast.

It's him all right.

Got outta there before

the arrest warrant could be executed.

Is there record of a reward?

Already checked, no such luck.

Unless you count a medal from the Colonies as a reward.

I don't.

I swear, the rich,

they think they can just buy themselves out of anything.

That's 'cause they usually can.

Ready?

Yeah.

Keep it tight.

You getting anything?

Not a thing.

Okay.

Don't sweat it.

I've flown around with Voss 26 times.

Eight of those have been exactly like this.

Not exactly like this.

Worse.

The ship, we had to intercept the Aries.

Oh yeah.

crew members all dead.

The meteor hit, this is where we found Hale.

He was the last survivor.

Just imagine all of these dead bodies

floating around space crushed by the gravity.

It was quite beautiful.

Okay.

No signs of life, nothing.

A ghost ship.

Seems that way.

Voss, Ibarra,

you need to get down here to the cargo hold.

Why?

Let's just say I think I found something.

The place has been stripped.

No logs,

no cargo tags.

Pretty much picked clean.

You reckon it's a scavenger, eh?

Not likely.

Scavengers usually blast a ship to pieces once they raid it.

So we are the first here.

Is that?

Wood.

Holy shit.

Are you sure?

German oak.

100%.

I mean, this has gotta be 700 years old.

Is it locked?

Well, the manifest, it lists food rations,

prefab modules, mining gear, but no mention of this.

They must have wanted to keep it on the down low.

Jesus.

A cousin of mine, he used to do some work once,

some security work for this rich dude

and he used to have this old piece of driftwood,

no more than 10 centimeters in length.

He kept it in a glass case.

The value,

one million credits. - Whoa.

Hard to believe Earth used to be covered in this stuff.

A private dealer would kill for a piece like this.

Or pay us enough to get us out the service.

- And then some. - Fuckin' A.

But what about the Victory?

We leave her.

- Voss, are you saying- - Change the log.

Officially, we were never here.

We encountered a drifting derelict.

The structure was unstable and we didn't dock.

And we bring this home quietly and find a private dealer.

All right, fuck it.

But what about the others?

Ah, they'll go along with it, they always do.

At the end of the day, we've got a ghost ship.

Maybe the crew evacuated, maybe space fever.

It doesn't matter, what matters now is this box.

This box gets us all out of the service for good.

'Tis the season, eh?

Whew.

Well I'll be, is it real?

The scans confirmed.

- Jesus. - Guys,

I haven't run the numbers yet but.

We sell it, black market dealer, split the credits.

This will be enough to buy us all out the service for good.

Those aren't decorations.

The birch,

pine cones, the bell, those symbols,

they're wards, they're meant to bind something.

Or it's someone's Christmas antique ornament set.

No, I'm serious, my grandmother used to tell stories.

These items when placed together,

they're meant to keep something out or something in.

Superstition or not, the value here isn't the sticks,

it's the wood, real earth timber.