Part two of my sci-fi serial where readers get to choose what happens next. When we encountered the three-person team manning Remote Research Station Denki back in part 1, they were surprised by a mysterious knock on the door…and no details appearing on any scans. Readers go to vote on how they responded, and I’ve included the results below!
Two readers had very specific suggestions (one bloodthirsty, one polite), but overwhelmingly, the response was opening the door and letting the visitor in.
With that, it’s time to kick off part two.
Tse raised the first tentative hand, stealing a glance at the airlock door as she did so. “Not sure how long that’ll hold,” she said. “Whatever’s out there might not be hostile, but we know a breach will mess us up.”
Finn squared their jaw, masking the gut-rending surge of fear beneath a veneer of command stoicism. “Luce?”
“No way in hell,” Lucy said.
Finn expelled a long breath, fingers clawing at the armrest of their chair. No majority meant the decision fell to them, and the guilty voice inside their skull smugly reminded them they were in charge—it always should have been their call. Finn screwed their eyes shut, blocking out Lucy’s pleading look and Tse’s wary anticipation. Denki’s hull could withstand meteor impacts at velocities up to 55 meters per second, and the design had survived worse in testing. Tse’s fears had merit, but the shell was sturdy – if their visitor could break in, they had bigger worries than decompression.
“I vote we open,” Finn said. “Cautiously. Luce, get ready to pressurize the airlock and break the seal. Tse, break out the boarding kit, just in case they’re hostile.”
Finn’s orders elicited curt, efficient nods, but nobody moved to comply. They were all braced for the next knock, waiting for the echoing boom against the hull, and its absence felt more terrifying than its presence might have been.
“Maybe they heard us,” Tse joked.
They exchanged a long, nervous look in the aftermath, then silently turned and went to work. It was easier to ignore the creeping whisper that Tse’s joke might have been genuine consideration when they were in motion.
The navy didn’t equip remote research stations for major trouble. Their boarding kit comprised three telescoping pikes and gel-packed shotguns designed to take the fight out of boarders without puncturing the hull. Theoretically, enough to hold off a raiding party, on the off chance a pirate crew found themselves this far out and desperate. Ill-suited to a more focused raid, where protocol demanded the crew surrender or blow the station, depending on the odds of surviving the assault.
Tse slung a shotgun over one shoulder, underhanded a pike to Finn. They caught it one-handed and took a position by the airlock, telescoping the weapon to its full two-meter length, sharp-blade pointed toward the door. Standard precaution against boarding; in theory, it didn’t take many pikes to hold a narrow bulkhead or airlock, but in practice Finn felt like they were trying to stop a hurricane with a toothpick.
BOOM… BOOM! The station shook, and Finn dropped into a wide stance, giving themselves stability for the fight ahead. Tse fell into place behind, covering the doorway with the gun. Lucy’s fingers danced across the console. “Still nothing on the sensors, but we’re ready to open on your mark, Cap.”
“Do it,” Finn said. “Let’s meet out visitor face-to-face.”
The hiss of pressurization freed Lucy up to join Finn at the door. She extended a second pike and fell into the same wide stance, training taking over despite the nerves and uncertainty. Finn sucked down a deep breath and steadied their breathing, but couldn’t hide the wince as the magnetic seals released. The airlock slid open, two halves parting for the central seam. Air hissed out as the two chambers matched pressure, and the down-lights in the airlock cast a bright sheen against the black, chitinous shoulders of their intruder.
Any thought that it might be human evaporated in that instant. The intruder was large—easily two feet taller than Tse, the tallest of their team—and wore an encounter suit unlike anything Finn had encountered in fifteen years as a spacer. The black lacquered armor gleamed and shimmered in the light, and it lacked the sleek, body-suit design humanity had spent two centuries refining, moving away from the overstuffed marshmallow suits used during their first forays into space. The visitor hadn’t moved since the seal broke, one arm raised to knock once more, even without the door.
Instinct told Finn to lash out, test the pike blade against the thick armor plating. Get some confirmation self-defense was possible, that they weren’t engaging in a futile effort. Training kept him from making the wrong move. “I’m Captain Dagda Finn of the SolGov research station Denki. We mean you no harm, but we’ll defend ourselves if you take hostile action. Please identify yourself and lay down your weapons.”
The intruder lowered a bulky arm, but offered no verbal response. The ponderous weight of its helmet adjusted, fixing upon the pikes and the nervous humans behind them. Finn swallowed their fear and held their ground, prayed neither Tse nor Lucy would break. “We mean you no harm,” Finn repeated, keeping their voice steady and even. “We ask you to identify yourself, or leave our station in peace.”
The intruder inched forward with ponderous inevitability, its vast bulk floating atop the floor rather than taking a step. Finn tensed, lizard-brain flooding their system with adrenaline as it screamed warning that anything that flowed with no apparent means of locomotion was unnatural to a degree worthy of terror. The rational part of them seized upon the far more terrifying revelation: anything that could manipulate gravity and levitate like that, particularly on the personal scale, operated at a level of technology far more advanced than humanity’s efforts.
Adrenaline coursed through Finn’s body, bringing with it the aluminum taste of fear. Lucy’s hand terminal chirped, and she risked a glance at the details. “No life signs in the suit, or and they’re not broadcasting information. Internal sensors can’t get a lock on the chemical composition of their encounter suit—”
“DESIST.”
The word reverberated through the station, delivered in a resonant baritone that filled the room like a physical force. Lucy swallowed and adjusted her grip on the pike, steeling herself against the order. Finn envied her resolve, felt nothing more than an urge to turn and run.
As if there was anywhere to go, beyond the cramped quarters and living area the researchers occupied during downtime.
Finn swallowed their fear, focused on the job. “Desist what? The scan?”
“DESIST.”
Tse rose to her full height, the shotgun tucked against her shoulder. “Three words make a sentence, asshole. Subject, verb, object. If you don’t give us—”
“DESIST!”
The word rolled out like a battering ram, knocking Tse to the floor. The shotgun skittered beneath the console, and Tse’s head smacked the floor hard enough to rattle teeth. Lucy tensed up, ready to lunge, and the intruder’s blunt head twisted to fix her with a bug-like eye. Tse moaned softly, stunned and unable to rise.
“Permission to engage, Cap?” Lucy hissed the question between clenched teeth, the words threaded with anger.
“Negative,” Finn said. “See to Tse.”
“Sir?”
Finn stared at the black glass orb of the intruder’s eye and held their pike at arms length. One thumb to the trigger and the weapon contracted to a neat baton, easily stowed at the belt. “My gut tells me we aren’t going to crack that armor with pig-stickers and riot rounds, and anything that can knock Tse over with a shout can do worse to the station itself. Tend to our injured while I negotiate.”
For a moment, Finn worried Lucy wouldn’t obey. The small woman’s fingers clenched tight on the pike, the blade point dancing like a hummingbird as her own flight or fight instincts waged a war inside her. She risked a glance at Tse’s crumbled form, and the shotgun half-hidden beneath the console, and reached a decision. The pike telescoped into its compact form and Lucy nodded her acknowledgment of the order.
Finn returned their full attention to the intruder and raised both hands. “Weapons away. Scans halted. We’ve complied with your request to desist. You obviously have a command of our language, so I’d ask again: identify yourself. We’re a science team on a research mission, and—”
“DESIST.”
“Desist what?”
The intruder floated a few inches closer, came to a halt two inches short of Finn’s position. The alien had didn’t look down, and up close Finn could make out the dents and chips in the armor. Damage from fast-moving micro-debris, the result of long-term exposure to the fragments hurtling through the void at high velocity. Whoever their intruder was, it had endured one hell of a beating and come through no worse for wear. Finn doubted any weapon they had aboard was going to a damn thing against armor that strong. Hell, they doubted blowing the station was going to put a dent in an opponent who wore an encounter suit with armor plating most station engineers would envy.
For a few empty seconds, Finn allowed themselves to sink into the importance of the moment: odds were, their intruder wasn’t entirely human; odds were, they’d made first contact between humanity and whatever species was locked away inside that suit. Odds were, they were making history, assuming they didn’t fuck it up and get Denki station torn apart by pissing this damn thing off.
Finn sucked down a long breath to steady their nerves. “Luce, how’s Tse doing?”
“Beat up, but still breathing,” Tse answered, her voice weaker than Finn would have liked.
“Probable concussion,” Lucy added. “Hit her head pretty good, cap.”
“Can you get her to med bay?”
“Negative.” Tse clambered to her feet, taking each movement slow. She limped over to stand beside Finn, arching her neck to stare up at the insect-faced helmet. “I ain’t turning my back on our friend here, not until we got more intel to work with.”
Finn caught Tse’s eye, acknowledged the tall woman’s resolve with a nod. “Alright. Let’s try this another way—no scans, no weapons, just some good old-fashioned research work. Tse, you give us some space, ‘cause this is going to get stupid. Luce, can you hand me a hand-terminal? We’ll try another scan and see if that’s enough to provoke another’s defensive response.”
The clatter of movement behind them alerted Finn that Lucy had other ideas. They half-turned, caught sight of her dropping into a defensive crouch by the main console, Tse’s discarded shotgun trained on the intruder. Her finger rested against the trigger, ready to open fire.
“I’m afraid I can’t comply, cap.”
Finn swore. That was the problem with fight-or-flight in space: too few damn places to run to…
I’ve ended up taking a short, unscheduled break from writing newsletters over the last fourteen days. Regular GenrePunk Ninja transmissions will resume in October, and
Like many of you, I have good weeks and bad weeks on the writing front. This week has been rocky, and if you’re feeling like
