Chapter Text
You wiped the sweat off your forehead as you finished up repairing one of the broken AC units, which had malfunctioned and was pumping heat instead. You basked in the direct line of the cool air for a few seconds before standing and putting the wall paneling back in place.
The other passengers and crew members bustled about behind you. You were a low level engineer, set to menial tasks like this one while the better engineers worked on more important stuff, like keeping the space station--Station Daystar--up and running properly.
You didn’t mind doing the smaller, often repetitive tasks, though. It gave you something to do with the free time you had.
Technically, your official job was a creature expert--you even had the badge to prove it. You documented and researched all you could about whatever sentient life forms were found in space. The explorers would come back to get you if they found something alive for you to document or investigate. It was all so fascinating, the different types of creatures you got to see.
Most were small so far, animal-like in nature, often docile and well hidden. Some were more viscous, like those little rock-lizard-crab-like things that attacked in swarms like a bunch of angry ants. They were the size of your hand, but they always moved in hoards. Thank god they weren’t strong or big enough to kill a human, especially with their advanced space suits, but they still freaked everyone out. You weren’t particularly fond of them either, seeing how they had stolen your paper sketches of them more than once. Little buggers.
Even with the occasional bad encounters, you still loved your job. You loved to draw the different creatures on the provided artificial paper before transferring it to the online archives. It just felt more satisfying.
Your thoughts were interrupted by your wrist communicator beeping with the message to head to the command deck immediately. Heart dropping in a weird mix of excitement and dread--and a bit of confusion--you swept up your bag and speed walked there.
“Has something happened to him? Is he back? Did he see anything?” you asked hurriedly as you rushed in, going straight to your commander, Louise Kane, Lou for those who knew her well enough. Commander Kane for everyone else.
She was a rather strict woman, curly black hair pulled back into a puffy ponytail, yet her piercing dark brown gaze cut down any amount of cuteness her hairstyle might invoke. She turned her cold gaze to you, face as stoney as ever, but her tense shoulders and the somber atmosphere made your heart sink.
Shit.
“We lost contact with Jacob just a minute ago,” Kane said. Her tone could be mistaken as indifferent, but you had worked with her--more under her, but still--long enough to recognize it as softer, more regretful and somber.
About three days ago, Jacob, the best pilot on this space station, was sent out to investigate a weird phenomena happening.
See, starting a month ago, when probes were sent out in a specific direction towards a large star and a circling ice giant, they would just… disappear. They all had cameras, but the only thing they picked up on was everything going completely and unnaturally dark despite nothing being wrong with the camera, and then it would disconnect.
Something out there was destroying all the probes you sent out. The only one to have seen even a little something was one with a complete 360 camera--but really, to say it saw something was a stretch. All the camera picked up was a brief blip of light flickering in and out of the darkness, and then it too cut off. It could’ve been a glitch, or the star being seen behind the darkness briefly, or maybe even another ship out there. The rest of the command team seemed pretty convinced of that last one, and it was really the only thing that made some kind of sense.
It didn't sit right with you, though, didn’t make any true sense. Why would a ship do that? Why did it not show up when the probe scanned for any heat signatures? Even when a probe made a wide berth around the ice giant, it still got disconnected when it started approaching the star. Said star surged, arcs bubbling off its surface, and then the connection was lost. It wasn’t like the star was close enough to hit it, so what the hell was happening?
That led to three days ago, with Jacob being sent out to get a look at it, to see if he couldn’t glean something else. The small, one man ship had been rigged with cameras on the outside that tied to command so they could watch it all live. Jacob could also communicate with command through an earpiece provided.
And evidently, they had just lost connection with him. The screen on the dashboard Kane stood at was fizzing and crackling with static, a big red sign labeling it as [DISCONNECTED].
You cursed under your breath as you approached more slowly, careful not to step too close to Kane. The commander turned her cool gaze back to the screen. “He told us of darkness, just as the cameras showed every other time. However, he did see that light again, the flickering one.” She tapped the screen a few times and rolled the feed back to where she wanted, then paused it. “There.”
You leaned closer. There was, in fact, a little ball of light in the distance. It was impossible to tell how big it truly was, or how far away, but you knew it meant trouble based on the probe from last time.
Still, something was bugging you about being called here. “No disrespect, but… why have I been called here?” you asked hesitantly. You wanted to know what was happening as much as anyone, but command seemed pretty convinced it was another ship out there. Technically, you were part of the command team, but usually you weren't called up as things were happening, since you were the creature expert. Kinda left you as a nonessential person to call when stuff like this happened. The other specialized experts were here too, though, so you supposed you were the last one for them to call.
Kane sighed. “It’s hard to explain,” she said grudgingly, clearly hating whatever she was about to say. “But we don’t know what it is, so we thought you might have some better ideas. Just… watch.”
Intrigued, you turned your attention to the video as she pressed play.
Jacob talked to command, sounding a bit nervous--rightfully so--about the light. Upon orders, he tapped into the speaker that would sound outside the ship, implemented specifically for this. “Hello?” he called out. “Hello, is someone out there?” As he spoke, he did a scan for any other heat signatures, which would indicate another ship, or possibly a life form of some sort.
It turned up negative. There was nothing out there.
He called out again. “Hello?”
A low, long, rumbling sound came back that sounded vaguely whale-like but much deeper and almost growling, lifting up slightly at the end. It filled the audio, surrounding and menacing
Your blood went cold, seemingly at the same time as Jacob. No. No way. Nothing should be out there, should be able to make a sound that loud.
And that light should not be moving.
Jacob, rambling nearly incoherently in a panic, turned the ship around and started to head back as quickly as possible, the view switching to the back cameras to continue watching the light. It grew bigger far faster than should be possible, the only thing visible among the inky darkness, another low rumble sounding again, far closer this time--
And then it cut out, as did Jacob’s voice. There was nothing but static.
You were left to stare in confused horror at the staticy screen, Kane letting you process for a moment. You swallowed hard, standing back upright and managing to breathe out, “That was…”
“Impossible,” Kane finished, eyes narrowed at the screen like it personally did her wrong, scrutinizing it.
Shaking yourself off, you requested, “Replay it.” Giving Kane any sort of order was a very bad idea, but it seemed she was too shaken by these events to argue, so she stepped to the side as she rewinded it.
She allowed you to play it, again and again, fascination and horror growing every time. That shouldn't be possible.
But there it was. The moving light, the low noise that sounded somewhere between a whales call--you’d seen and heard old videos of the creatures--and the warning growl of a predator. Whatever it was wasn’t friendly.
You felt bad for Jacob, almost very definitely dead, but you couldn’t help your curiosity of what this thing was. It didn’t show up on the thermal scanner, no matter how close it got.
Kane watched over your shoulder while you scrubbed through the video, frame by frame, the other experts and a few curious crew members watching as well. You turned the exposure and brightness up on the screen to try and make out anything you could in the darkness.
It was only at the very end, right before it cut, that you finally gleaned something from the darkness with a little gasp. You grabbed the digital pen and traced over the image with white to more easily show the others what you yourself barely saw.
Right as the orb of light disappeared from the frame, but still shone faintly from off at the top, in the last second… there were teeth. Huge, long, angler-fish like teeth that glinted faintly in the light, the only thing to give it away. They stretched wide the last few frames, going almost completely out of it right before the camera cut out.
Whatever it was, it was huge. From the look of it, it had just eaten the ship. It was a relatively small ship, but still. Holy crap.
No creature you’d found so far had been anywhere near big enough to do that kind of damage. The biggest thing you encountered was maybe the size of an armchair, and it was an incredibly peaceful mushroom-looking thing. Nothing had been as big as this, and not nearly as aggressive.
Kane broke the silence by asking, “Do you have any idea what it is?”
You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, leaning back from the screen. “Not a single clue,” you sighed. A frown pulled at Kane’s lips, clearly disappointed and vaguely annoyed.
Kane turned her gaze back to the video, as if staring would give her answers. You couldn’t blame her, you were still stuck staring at the faint outline of razor sharp, huge teeth. Was it some kind of weird, giant, space anglerfish? That might explain the big light floating around, if it was anglerfish-adjacent.
Still freaky. You never liked the look of anglerfish much, too many teeth with such small, dead eyes. Weird little things.
And mind you, those things were teeny tiny compared to whatever this was, so this did not bode well.
You tore your eyes from the screen and to Kane when she sighed softly. Tiredness hung in the eyebags she had and the slight sag in her tense shoulders, fingers tapping in a restless pattern where she had them clasped behind her back. She had likely been up almost the whole three days Jacob was out, making sure it all went smoothly, while still trying to keep the rest of the ship calm. She practically held this station together with her level head and cold glare. Lord knows how much everyone would freak out over this discovery.
As if reading your mind, she said quietly but with every bit of command intact, “We can’t tell the rest of the station. Not yet. If they knew of this… thing's existence, they would only freak out and cause a panic, and I won’t have that,” she said firmly. She turned to face you properly, and you straightened up subconsciously in response.
“I hate to ask this of anyone after what just occurred, but if you’d be willing, would you go out to investigate this thing further? The more we know about it, the safer we can be, and the more the station and others traveling around can be at peace.” She spoke with a sort of hesitance you hadn’t heard from her before, clearly still in a bit of shock over Jacob’s sudden death. You couldn’t quite wrap your head around it either. Still, it didn’t feel right on her, the tiredness, the unsureness.
So, curiosity overriding all common sense, and a desire to shake Kane out of her tired stupor, you straightened and smiled. “It would be my honor.”
Kane blinked, as if shocked by your easy, rather excited agreement, then nodded, rolling her shoulders. Her commanding presence returned in full, nodding curtly at you. “Very well then. We’ll organize a small shuttle for you to take, and rig it with the same camera system as before.”
You nodded, pursing your lips. “Right. Uh, I kind of don’t know how to fly a ship,” you admitted a bit sheepishly.
There was the barest hint of an eye roll, but Kane said calmly, “That’s fine. I’ll have Kurt teach you the basics, but we can just put the ship on autopilot, given we’ve gone to the same coordinates so many times now. Will you need anything else?”
You paused, thinking. “If I’m going to be out there for longer than just traveling, seeing it, and turning back, since I’m meant to be studying whatever this is, I’ll need some amount of provisions. Just basic stuff, I don’t want to waste any resources,” you said quickly, waving a hand, but Kane nodded obligingly.
“We can arrange that easily,” she said. “Is two weeks enough time, do you think? Not counting the three days it takes to travel there and then back. You could always stop back if you need to stay out longer, given you aren’t killed.” Blunt, but honest. You appreciated that about her.
“That should be fine,” you agreed. “Should I start packing?”
“Best to, yes. We’ll prepare the shuttle, you get whatever you need in order,” Kane ordered with a curt nod. “I’ll call you when we’re ready, should be in a day, so make sure to get a good rest tonight.”
With a nod and a last goodbye, you hurried off to get your things in order. That sounded grim, but you meant it to get any files organized that might help in figuring out what this new thing was. You pulled up old notes on old Earth creatures, like the anglerfish and whales, just in case it was relevant. They had been sea creatures, while this thing lived in space, but hey, you had nothing else to go on, alright?
The next day was spent anticipating the trip, and learning the basics of navigating, reading the systems maps and other reports on the ships condition, and freehand flying if need be. It wasn’t too awful, and you comforted yourself with the knowledge that it would be on autopilot for the most part.
It wasn’t like manually flying would really do you any good, anyway.