The USS Chocolate Chip Cookie had been on a decelerating approach toward the structure for the past month, drawing out the journey of decades spent frozen in stasis.
The astrophysicist who’d discovered the space station had warned the captain to expect a relic. Life was out there, but the anticipation had been tempered with realism. What were the chances alien life would still be alive by the time anyone came to say hello?
The crew had been chosen with the expectation they’d be part archaeologist, part repairman.
But as they’d drawn closer, it had become clear that not only was the station habitable, it was in fact…inhabited.
The silver twinkle of departing and arriving ships had been the first sign, but the sensors had been blaring life form indicators for weeks.
They’d practiced welding a lot more than diplomacy. Wasn’t like the Cookie could turn around at this point to pick up a State Department liaison. Hell, State wouldn’t get their message tentatively confirming life for several years.
No, the Cookie was on her own.
Captain Cassie Berdt’s chest spasmed. She let out a breath and the twinge passed. The tension between her shoulder blades did not.
“Shuttle on approach,” reported the lieutenant whose chair she was gripping hard enough to leave a titanium dent.
Cass sucked in another gulp of stale air. “Steady as she goes.”
A crackle came over the comms. “Port door is opening. Shimmer indicates shield tech.” A pause, followed by another burst of static. “Scanners confirm. Looks like a crowd is gathering at the dock.”
Sergeant Penny broke in over Commander James’ measured tones. “They’re humanoid!”
“Confirmed, majority humanoid,” the commander added, but Cass was probably the only one still paying attention, judging by the murmur on the bridge.
“Two hundred meters to docking,” a cool British voice announced.
“Let Winston take it in,” Cass ordered. “Hold targeting to calculations only. Stay friendly but all systems and crew alert for trouble.”
“Aye, Captain,” the AI responded. “Fifty meters.”
“Shuttle crew, don’t forget to document.”
“Recording logs activated,” Commander James replied.
Sergeant Penny let out a nervous giggle. “Ooo. That one’s cute.”
“Try to avoid local mating rituals until we find out what they are,” Cass stated calmly. She held in her eyeroll and affected a posture of poise and control. Penny was a sharp junior NCO, but she would pull a stunt like this right as the formal logs started.
“Sorry, Captain.” Penny always was.
Winston broke in crisply. “Translator activated and broadcasting to shuttle crew. Docking in five seconds. Four. Three. Two. One.”
The bridge crew had held their breath collectively this time, judging by the exhales after the bump.
“Atmosphere normalized. Breathable air.” Penny was back to business as she focused on her sensor pad.
“No pathogens detected,” Winston added.
“Confirmed. Hatch is safe to open.” Clanking mingled with hydraulic whirs.
“Ooo lá lá,” James murmured.
Cass choked on her stale, cold coffee. “Commander?”
He didn’t answer.
Above the murmur of the alien crowd, Penny’s voice gave a clue. “Do you smell that? It’s beautiful. The scent memories it’s evoking are amazing…”
“We are surrounded,” James said, his baritone dropping to a dreamy bass.
“I don’t think I mind.” Penny giggled coquettishly.
“You should join us, Captain.” The unmistakable sounds of kissing followed.
Cass felt her face redden, suddenly glad she hadn’t given into crew pressure and broadcast the shuttle feed live.
“Abort! About mission! All crew, retreat to the Cookie immediately. Winston, evacuate them by force if necessary. I don’t care if it starts an intergalactic war, we’re not leaving them behind.”
“Apologies, Captain.” Winston sounded…mussed. “All circuits are busy. This station AI is unlike anything I’ve ever analyzed…”
***
Had some fun with the inhabited station – thanks, Becky! My prompt went to nother Mike. Check out more at MOTE!
