“Captain, the packet’s energy signature has been detected.”
“Oh, I’m impressed it can still transmit through this sludge of radiation. ETA to pickup?”
“About twelve units Standard Galactic Time. It’s hard getting a fix on this one.”
Captain Echina, clan Umdyn, leaned back in her seat and pondered how in the vastness of space the Pride of Vanatu had stumbled upon this remotely isolated planet. The probe they sent had malfunctioned, something to do with the planet’s atmosphere. Fortunately, its beacon was still transmitting and the data packet was intact.
“Helm, maintain cloak until the time for transfer. We don’t want any surprises.”
“Aye, Aye, Ma’am.”
The standard units ticked by until engineering reported their shields and cloak going down for the transfer. Her transmitter chimed.
“Was retrieval successful?”
“Uh… about that captain…”
She frowned. “What is it? Is it damaged?” Unless the probe had been utterly destroyed it would still be possible to salvage data from it. “Have engineering and science sort it out.”
“It’s… uh, it’s not the probe that’s the problem captain. We picked up something else.”
“What?! Set up a radiation quarantine immediately and call science! Report to decontamination ASAP!”
“Captain, it’s not that. We picked up a sapient.”
Deafening silence on the bridge. Lashqran, clan Takk, turned to her, eyes wide in disbelief. “Impossible,” he whispered. “The initial scans indicate it’s at least a category nine planet.”
Echina got up and marched to the transport room. On the way she contacted security and told them to have a full team at the ready. She was taking no chances; a category thirteen planet would have undoubtedly spawned a monstrosity of unimaginable proportions. A specialised predator that thought the probe was food. And a sapiant at that? It boggled the mind. She shook her head. Transport must have been too shocked to properly assess the situation. A sapiant simply couldn’t exist on a category thirteen.
The transport room’s doors hissed open and her security team fanned out, phasers trained on the platform in the middle of the room. The shields were up, a black screen cutting off the “sapiant” from the rest of the ship.
She turned to the shell-shocked Agaraxian at the command console. “Report,” she barked. “What’s this nonsense about a sapiant?”
The ensign audibly gulped and stammered his way to an explanation. “The-the-the… packet. We… we picked up its signature…” His voice cracked as he continued. “There was something holding it when we beamed it up. I hit the shield as soon as I saw it.”
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She narrowed her eyes. Of course he panicked. Probably just a stray, nothing like the nightmare fuel she had imagined. She motioned to the security team. Phasers whined menacingly as their charges were brought to bear. “No one shoot unless I order it or it clearly takes hostile action.” She nodded to the ensign. “Drop the shields.”
The black wall flickered out and revealed one of the stranger beings she had encountered. It was bipedal, slightly taller than her, with pinkish-brown skin and a tuft of black fur on top of its head. Two arms, seemingly multijointed, ending in five grasping digits. One hand was still clutching the scout probe’s data packet. More surprising was that it was wearing what were obviously clothes. Could it really be sapiant? Phasers whined distractingly around her as she pondered what to do.
The bipedal slowly moved its other hand to shoulder height and started waving its arm in a strange motion. Garbled speech spewed out its mouth. Its physiology was surprisingly similar to her own Agaraxian one. She stared in abject shock as her transmitter chimed, the translator frantically trying to find a reference point in what was probably the creature’s speech.
What in the nine Makers’ name do I do now?
* * *
Gustavo “Gus” Martinez was hiking in the hills, enjoying the cool breeze on his skin. The lights from the distant city were a nice backdrop and he took many pictures with his new DSLR. He was a bit strapped for cash but decided to treat himself after successfully getting a scholarship for his PhD. He continued his trek until he heard a faint chime in the wilderness.
Odd. It should be just me around here, I haven’t seen anyone for ages.
There it was again. To his right, not too far. He apprehensively made his way towards the sound. Horror stories about undetonated missiles filled his head.
Hey at least if I die I won’t have to remember Tori Reyez calling me a pervert and a freak in front of all her friends.
Yeah, there it was again. Definitely to his right and he was getting closer.
A pervert I might be but freak is a bit much. I mean, all I did was wonder out loud what her piss would taste like. Every guy’s thought about something like this before, right? RIGHT?
He carefully made his way down a hill and surveyed the surroundings. A blinking light caught his eye. He found a crashed drone deeply embedded into an old, dying tree. Huh. American drone shot down by that thunderstorm from a couple days ago maybe? Curiosity got the better of him and after several embarrassing minutes, he gave up trying to pull it out of the tree. Well, that’s that then. Better go on my way and forget all about this.
He was about to let go of the drone when the blinking light suddenly turned solid green and a sharp whine erupted from it. He only had time to think about that missile story before the world turned white.
* * *
He opened his eyes to see tall, green… guy in a uniform staring at him before a black screen sprang up around him. He blinked his vision back to normal, or tried to at any rate. He shook his head and instantly regretted it. The world lurched and he fell to his knees, bile rising up from his throat.
He barely managed to hold his camera in his free hand to prevent the vomit from drenching it. He staggered to his feet when he recovered and tried to recall what was beyond that black screen. He was still holding part of what he had mistakenly assumed to be a probe.
Wiping the vomit from his mouth with his sleeve, he tentatively touched the screen. It was cold and solid, slightly tingling with static. He pulled his hand back and looked around. This was definitely not the wild landscape he’d just been admiring. Coupled with that odd sense of distortion he felt, he could only guess that he’d been … what? Teleported out? Ridiculous as it might sound, it matched what he’s read (and fantasised about) in sci-fi novels.
Am I on a fucking spaceship?
His mind reeled. The floor was hard and cold, unlike anything he had ever seen. It looked like plastic but felt like steel. He looked at his watch. Ten minutes had passed since he’s magically appeared here. He must have been woozier than he thought. He was still trying to sort his thoughts out when the screen vanished.
He froze.
There were five very armed, very green people surrounding him, and I don’t mean green as in sick like he was just five minutes ago. The woman in charge was talking to that guy he saw the first time. There was this strange whine coming from the rest of the greens around him and he knew better than to make any sudden moves.
It was a testament to his mental fortitude that he noticed how well stacked that woman was. She was about a head shorter than his 178 cm, with purple hair held in a severe bun. There was a thin, long braid trailing down from the bun to the small of her back. And man, those tits! He was no expert but he estimated her breasts were about a D-cup, with two curious bulges directly underneath them. She had a nice pert face with enchanting fox eyes, eyes that were currently nearly bulging out of their sockets. Oh, and she was FUCKING GREEN FROM HEAD TO TOE!
Gee, I hope these aliens don’t want to probe my butthole. I mean, I’ll try anything once but probing seems a bit much on the first date.
He slowly raised his right hand, his left still clutching the drone that started this whole mess, waved and said that first thing that came to his mind.
“Nice tits, babe.”