To the Stars Beyond

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. That line pops unbidden into my mind as I climb into the seat of my pod, making me snort.

Flicking on the overhead controls, I rack my brain for the name of the movie that that line hailed from. Something from the mid 20th century maybe. My dad would be rolling over in his grave at the fact that I didn’t know the answer off the top of my head.

He had been an avid old world movie nerd, science fiction in particular, and his love for them had transferred to his only daughter.

My work, nowadays, left me little time to keep myself brushed up on such things; but to be fair, now that I was actually in space, flying spaceships, it left a lot of those old movies feeling hollow.

Sucking in an excited breath, I continue my pre-launch inspection with an expert eye. My pod was one of six on the Divine and I would be the first to take it for a spin.

The Divine was an ultramodern, long range explorer craft, the first of its kind, and I was part of her six-person crew. Earth had come a long way since the era of those old movies, thankfully in better shape than many of those stories portrayed.

With a lot of hard work and cooperation, Earths peoples had stabilized the environment, cleaned up her oceans and concentrated on exploring the heavens. With a colony on the moon and one on Mars, humans were making strides.

Now, with the fastest, most advanced ship to date, the opportunities seemed endless.

“Sinclair, your aft sensor array is a little hibbidy jibbidy, get on that will ya!” Bowman’s deep voice resonates through the communicator, loud in such a small space.

“Copy. Realigning said array. Compensating for the hibbidy as well as the jibbidy,” I reply seriously.

The snickers from the rest of the crew have me grinning.

Bowman was as strait-laced as they came, but he had a kooky side we all adored.

“Alright bean, this is all you. Make mama proud my darling.” Okay, maybe we had a few…offbeat characters on this ship; but I promise they are all brilliant.

I smile at ‘mama’ Virgil’s pep talk. He was our captain and very protective of his ‘beans’ as any of us who went out in the pods, were called.

“Aye aye!” I confirm.

I suck in another excited breath as the Divine’s bay-doors open; her shields protecting the area around my pod from the vacuum of space.

“Just know, we all appreciate our sacrificial lamb little Rosey,” the quip is swallowed up by chuckles from the group.

“No problem, Nara. I’ll gladly take this one for the team,” I joke back. Nara was shamelessly jealous of me being picked for this first contact mission, but she was still my besty.

A lone craft presented a less intimidating presence for new contact. And, on the off chance it all went to hell, my pod would hopefully give the Divine time to escape. We had all clamored for the position.

I run the scanner sequence again, noting that the strange signal we had detected two days ago, and the reason for my foray with the pod, hadn’t moved.

Earth’s space program had been monitoring for these types of infrequent alien signals for the past century or so. All our attempts to contact the senders of these signals have been met with silence.

But now, we had the technology to actually venture out further than ever before, and we are very tired of being ignored.

This signal was quite different than those we have on file, but there was no doubt that it was alien in origin, and oh so tantalizingly close.

I shift in my seat as the synergistic visor initiates, effectively making me ‘one’ with the little pod. The light blue of it’s holo-readings bathe my small compartment in a gentle glow.

Lifting, my pod hovers as its landing struts retract, and I position the craft for egress.

This is it! I think excitedly. I’m about to do something no human has ever done before. That is as long as the signal stays put…and the being responsible for it doesn’t blast me out of existence.

I immediately stop that train of thought. I must…humanity must believe that there are those out there as willing to meet with us, as we are with them.

“To the stars beyond…,” mama starts.

“Then further on,” me and the rest of the crew finishes. The mantra was a familiar one, and the crew started each new journey with it.

“No heroics Rose Sinclair…you hear me?” mama Virgil admonishes.

“You got it mama. I’ll just be my insistent charming self, that always seems to work for me,” I chuckle at the groans that accompanies my words. It was comforting to know the group would be ‘with’ me, at least via comms, the entire time.

One more fortifying breath for the road has my mind focusing and my nerves settling, as my pod leaves the safety of the Divine.

****

“Vekka! I swear, as the display panel flashes the same error as the previous hundred times.

My tail swings in agitation, nearly knocking the tool kit I have splayed open, off the nearby counter.

The past two days have been beyond frustrating. I was an excellent mechanic, top in my field, and it has been shameful with how this error has eluded all my attempts to correct it so far.

Most vital systems read as normal, but for the engines. The vekking engines!

The spines along my head and down my back rise and fall in time with my swinging tail. I try to calm myself as I ponder the problem once more.

You should have flown with Terrofoth, I imagine my vogal saying. I sigh. I doubt a second would have any better ideas on how to fix this error than what I’ve tried so far.

Most seekers don’t fly without a second, but my last dozen or so solo ventures have had no issues.

Until now, that is. When the energy wave that I had been tracking had unexpectedly flared, I had been caught up in its pull, dragged along for several sectors. Since then, I have been able to repair most of the damage, except for long range sensors, long range communications and of course engines.

I am as immobile without them as a zarkarian is without its antennas. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the second, albeit, less powerful wave, was due to arrive any minute.

I had put out a warning signal regarding the wave, as well as a distress call, but this area of space was not traveled through often, so I would need to figure this out on my own.

I had already programmed in coordinates to a nearby habitable planet. If I am to be swept along by the second wave, I will make use of my momentum to make an emergency landing there.

The energy dump from the wave should kick start the engines, at least long enough to make the landing. I have supplies to last me for months, enough time for me to either make the necessary repairs to my ship, or for my people to find me.

Once again, I turn to the consol. My talons graze the controls, punching in the command to open the service compartment.

There are a few things I haven’t tried yet, but only because if they fail it could cause more damage to the systems.

I stop suddenly when a warning blip appears on screen. I stare at the readings, my secondary lids blinking rapidly as I try to make sense of what I’m seeing.

It seems to be an approaching craft, but of no make or model I have ever seen before. It was also very small.

“What the vekka is that?” I growl.

My communications array lights up, the little ship is trying to contact me.

I stare at the illegible script that runs across my screen. It's of no sentient race that I’m aware of. I don’t have time for this, but I run the text through the ships database anyways.

The small ship will also be caught in the energy wave’s pull if I’m not able to communicate and warn it off.

Surprisingly, the computer finds something. Race beta 9, from a planet several lightyears away. The information was from many centuries ago, with nothing recent.

I skim the information quickly; they were a bipedal species, warm-blooded, intelligent but aggressive. Those aggressive tendencies seemed to be leading the race to self-annihilation.

My people, as well as others in the Consortium at the time, had been warned away from the species and their planet, allowing for their natural progression.

There was a lot more information, but time was short, and I currently didn’t have the luxury of study.

Well, it seemed my ancestors were wrong about species beta 9 and their self-extinction. The small ship on my viewscreen was testament to that.

Unfortunately, there were no language files included in the information. I would need to run the text through my translators to be able to come up with a form of communication. But again, there was no time for that.

That small craft was certainly not on its own, I’m sure it was from a larger vessel, one my non-working long range sensors couldn’t detect at the moment. I doubt it was close enough to help its brethren in time anyway.

The little ship could potentially outrun the wave, but I do not think it's aware of the approaching storm, otherwise it would not be staying put.

I curse again; my vogal would not be proud of my excessive swearing.

I knew barely anything about this species and yet I did not want it to get swept up, and more than likely damaged, by the energy wave that was imminent.

I no sooner think the thought then my short-range sensors start to blare. I don’t even have time to curse again as my claws fly over the controls.

Throwing up my shields, I extend them around the little ship, also locking them to me with a Restraint beam.

I ignore the strange text that flashes across the communications screen as I stow the tools and strap myself into a chair. I hope the being in the little ship is strapped in securely, because this is not going to be a smooth ride.

****

All my systems are blaring at me, warnings in every color flashing across my visor.

“Fuck, shit!” I swear, as I rapidly type out commands, trying everything in my arsenal to escape whatever has trapped me to the alien vessel looming on my viewscreen.

The elation I had felt earlier at seeing the strange craft, had come crashing down when all my attempts at communication had failed.

Then, out of nowhere, a sort of tractor beam had extended from the ship, locking onto my pod and pulling me in close to its starboard aft.

I’m effectively trapped. Sacrificial lamb indeed.

“No, this is not how my first contact is supposed to go. It’s not going to end up some dumb cliché, straight out of an old sci-fi movie,” I whisper frantically.

“Sincla…*static*…pping…*static*…disenga…” Virgil’s words cut off abruptly when, yet another warning light, appears on my screen.

Surprisingly, this warning has nothing to do with the large alien ship hovering alongside my tiny pod. This is something different altogether.

The energy readings of the phenomena approaching our two vessels is off the charts.

My restraints automatically tighten, and my visor extends to protect the rest of my head as the impact hits.

Even with the state-of-the-art restraints I’m tossed around like the proverbial ragdoll. My head is moving so much I can’t even focus on the readings flying across my screen.

I shift my eyes to the viewport and quickly wish I hadn’t. The kaleidoscope of colors that streams past is dizzying, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

I know my pod has been swept up in some kind of current, I just pray it holds together long enough to survive the ride. I hope I hold together long enough to survive.

It feels like hours pass, but logically I know it’s only been a minute or two at most, before my pod is suddenly spit out of the strange slipstream.

I feel my stomach lurch at the sudden change in motion, the inertial dampeners unable to keep up. I open my eyes to discover that most of my systems are down, but thankfully the most essential ones, like life support, seem to be intact.

I reach out with a shaky hand, trying to bring up anything that will tell me how far I flew. Correction, how far I’m still flying as my small craft has continued on a course only the stars know.

“Come on!” I growl as I try to engage the engines, more exactly, the breaks. Nothing is responding to my commands.

A large shape catches my eye out of the viewport, and I gasp. The alien vessel is still neck and neck with me. I can only assume I’m still caught in its hold. Looks like the wave thingy wasn’t enough to shake it loose.

I slam my fists down on the console in frustration. Could things get any worse? I think, then immediately regret it…because of course they could.

I scream as I see a planet suddenly fill my screens, it seems we are on a crash course. The alien planet’s familiar deep blues and greens not at all comforting.

Apparently, in space no one really can hear you scream. Huh, iconic tagline of Ridley Scott’s Alien. A hysterical laugh escapes me as my brain finally remembers that long ago movie.

Well dad, at least if I go out, I go out making you proud. I think, as I grit my teeth and grab a hold of my seat’s restraints. Not much I can do now but hold on and hope the alien ship I’m glued to, knows what it’s doing.

****

“What am I doing?” I snarl to the air around me. My trajectory is off course, and if I can’t correct it, my ship, as well as the tiny alien craft, will surely crash into the planet.

“Easy Arrova, you can do this. Like vogal always says, calm in the face of chaos rules the day.” It wasn’t one of her more eloquent sayings, but it still helps to steady me.

At least most of the systems I had corrected earlier are still intact. As I was prepared for this second wave, I had had shields at full strength.

The small ship, still locked onto mine, also seems to have faired well. I just hope its occupant is also in good shape.

The planet is coming up fast, and my hands fly over my controls. Thankfully, the engines have re-boosted, at least for now and I’m able to make the corrections before we hit atmosphere.

The landing will be rough, but my ship's shields should protect us both from the worst of the landing.

I quickly retighten the tethers on my seat before sending a hasty prayer to my people’s maker. I add the unknown alien to my prayers, already feeling protective of it for some reason.

The hull shakes as we break through the planet’s exosphere, but shields hold. I’ve plotted a course to a relatively clear piece of land, and I grip the straps protecting me as that strip of land looms up on my viewscreen.

I grunt but hold my gaze as steady as I can as my ship ‘lands’. Okay, not so much as lands as slides along the ground.

We slide for several moments, leaving a deep furrow in the earth behind us.

I jerk painfully against my straps as my ship finally comes to a stop, dust and debris obscuring the view.

Taking several deep breaths, I quickly remove my restraints and check the systems. A few more minor errors, but nothing a couple days work won’t fix. Hopefully, I’ll finally be able to repair the engines.

My thoughts fly to the alien ship, and I check on its status. A low rumbling growl leaves me as I note several dings in its hull, but thankfully it seems to have held up.

Excitement grips me at the thought of meeting a new alien species. As dire as our situation might be, I never thought I would be someone who would make first contact with an essentially unknown species.

I grab several crucial items before making my way to the exit. I tuck one of those crucial items into a pocket on my vest. It’s a blaster and I’m really hoping I won’t have to use it.

I did read that this species was viewed as being aggressive, so I was taking no chances. Besides that, the local wildlife could also pose a threat. It’s better to be prepared, I think to myself as the exit ramp deploys and I step into the humid air of the alien planet.

****

“Nuhhh!” I groan as I come too. My body feels like it’s been hit by a freighter. I squint as I look out the viewport at the alien landscape around me.

“Nope, not a freighter…just a planet…no big deal,” I croak.

Judging by the soreness of my throat, I guess I screamed for most of my descent; at least until I blacked out.

I tentatively assess the rest of my body. Besides some whiplash and a small gash on my forehead, I don’t seem to have suffered any broken bones.

I groan again as I shift my weight, trying to bring up a status report. The faint light on the console displays the massive amount of damage that most of the ship’s systems have suffered.

It would take a small engineering team, with access to proper equipment, several hours to repair. Me? I will be lucky to get long range communications back online.

I have some technical skills but even I know I will never be able to get this pod back off the ground.

I suddenly remember the alien craft that had accompanied me down to this place, and quickly scan the view out my window again. I can’t see anything from the angle my pod is at.

I bring up external sensors, barely, and get a choppy reading of the environment around me. My eyes widen at the surprisingly breathable atmosphere and nearly Earth norm gravity.

“A little hot and humid maybe, but beggars can’t be choosers,” I quip, trying to stem a trickle of panic that wants to take root in my stomach.

I unlatch the straps holding me in and grab up the survival pack I never thought I would use.

“I guess being the first human to stand on this planet is something, even if no one ever hears about it,” I grumble as I reach for the emergency door release.

Unsurprisingly, the door sticks. My body protests as I lean into it and shove, stumbling slightly when it finally gives way.

I squint as the bright light of the sun hits me. Shielding my eyes with my hand, I heft the survival pack onto my shoulder and jump the short distance to the ground.

My boots kick up a small cloud of silica the color of rose petals, coating them a dusty pink.

I gasp as I take in the strange landscape around me. The pale blue of the sky is cloudless, and the pink dunes around me are in stark contrast to the deep green of the jungle off in the distance.

“God…it’s really pretty,” I say under my breath.

I start when I hear a shuffling off to my right. Spinning, I take in another astonishing sight. This one less on the pretty side, leaning more towards intimidating.

The being stops in its tracks when it sees me. Both of us staring incomprehensibly at each other.

It’s huge…and a dinosaur. Okay, not really, as it’s much too humanoid to resemble those long-ago creatures.

But its powerful build, long thick tail and spines that run from its head down its back, does lend to the appearance of those ancient Earth behemoths.

It…he…she? Maybe neither! Its body does seem very male like. I think, as I continue to stare. It was very…muscly…like a body builder with scales; dark gold scales fading to a deep orange. Its vest like top didn’t hide much.

Okay so maybe its a little pretty, I snort.

His head tilts at that inelegant sound. I decide our staring contest should probably end.

“Um…hi…” I say, holding up a hand. I immediately feel the need to slap myself across my forehead at such an idiotic greeting. I restrain myself…barely.

I know he probably doesn’t understand me, but who knows how advanced his species is.

Humans have invented translators, but it would take several days for it to learn another being’s language, and that was with constant input.

A low rumble emanates from the creature, with several sharp clicks. I realize he’s saying something, but of course I can’t understand him.

“Okay, so no to the advanced technology,” I say. “Well, so far you haven’t attacked me, so at least we are doing better at first contact than 90 percent of old sci-fi movies.”

He tilts his head at my words again, then removes a device from his vest.

I wince, expecting…I’m not sure what I was expecting, but when he just fiddles with it, I let myself relax. It’s my turn to tilt my head, trying to figure out what he’s doing.

He rumbles and clicks a few more times, looking from his device to me.

Ohhh, is this the advanced tech? I wonder and cock my head again.

He grunts, scratching at his chin with a long…very long nail. Nope…not a nail; that, is a claw. A very sharp looking claw.

I gulp. He glances at me again and rumbles off more words. Once he’s done, he points at me then at his device.

“Ahhh. Okay, you want me to talk. Got it. I can do that,” I say, clearing my throat. Obviously, the device is a translator and requires my words to learn the language.

Hopefully it works faster than the ones humans have made because I don’t think I can talk for days. Although my friends might disagree.

The thought of my fellow crew members on board the Divine has my heart lurch. I wonder how far that energy stream took me, and if I’ll ever see them again.

I cease that train of thought almost immediately. Thinking that way will not help me in my current circumstance.

I prattle on, even as I feel sweat start to slide down my face; I’ll need to find shade soon before the heat of the sun roasts me.

****

The creature caught on quick, understanding my cues to talk so that my translator could learn its language.

I study the strange being as it speaks, the melodic sound of its voice as soft as its body seems to be.

I had anticipated that this being was going to be smaller than my species judging from its craft, but I was stunned by just how much smaller it was.

The form fitting clothing it was wearing does not hide anything and my eyes travel over its lithe frame. No natural defenses of any kind that I could see. Not even scales.

I note the enlarged mammary glands on its chest, suggesting it’s most likely female. The color of her smooth skin was a shade or two darker than the ground I was standing on, and her hair was as black as the nights sky. Truly alien.

She shifts her weight and adjusts the pack she is carrying as she continues to speak. I check my language device, the readings suggesting it needs several more minutes to complete.

Looking back at the being, I see her wipe moisture from her brow. Ah, she is sweating which means she's hot and needs to cool down. A very effective method.

Perhaps she would be willing to follow me back to my ship which is only a short distance away. Although my people are used to hot temperatures such as this, we don’t sweat, and I will need some shade soon to remain cool.

I’m about to attempt my translator and relay this to her when a sudden motion catches my eye. It seems to have caught the aliens as well, as she stops speaking and turns her head in the same direction.

I issue a low hiss when several small animals crest a low dune only a few tail lengths away. They cautiously slink our way, their small black eyes flittering back and forth between the two of us.

They would hardly come up to my knee but when the lead animal snaps at one of its brethren, long deadly fangs fill its jaw.

The small female has quietly taken several steps my way, not taking her eyes off the creatures. The lead beast tracks her movements.

I tense when I see the muscles bunch under the obvious predator, it plans to strike.

I fill my vocal sacs, preparing a bugle I have not issued since my youth. I have my blaster but I’m not sure I’m fast enough to hit more then two before the rest would attack. I hope the threat of a larger predator, me, will deter them.

I’m quite proud of the volume I produce, the sound loud enough to cause the alien beside me to wince and cover her small rounded ears with her hands.

Thankfully, it has the desired affect on the animals as well. When the lead one spooks and runs, the rest follow.

I grin, my tail whipping back and forth. Still got it, I think, as I watch them disappear.

The little female’s eyes are wide as she turns to me. She opens her mouth, but before she can say anything another roar erupts, but it’s not me this time.

We both whip our heads around, staring in the direction of the tree line, the direction the answering roar came from.

“Tell me those are your buddies coming to rescue us,” she says, her voice low.

Guess the translator is working, I think abstractly. “None of my people live on this planet, so no. It’s no rescue party,” I answer. Her eyes flash to mine when she realizes she can understand me.

“I think you might have alerted the locals to our presence then,” she quips, turning her gaze back to the trees, even as she edges closer to me.

The trees in the distance shiver, and a lower, longer roar issues from their depths before a massive creature emerges.

Its at least five times my height and its large eyes easily find us, even though we are several yards away.

“Out of the frying pan, straight into the fire,” the female beside me groans.

The saying is strange, but apt. “I think we should run,” I say.

“Right behind you Rex,” she says, apparently naming me.

Hopefully we will stay alive long enough to make proper introductions, I think, as we both turn and run.

End…for now.