“Shall I set the coordinates and engage for the destination?” The AI dutifully inquired.
“Might as well, Jared, my date in the simulator will have to wait a week, I’m guessing.” Amelia Killian exhaled deeply and let the computer set the course.
She was a veteran in the field by now. Seven years of operating scout ships all over the Solar System, every day, was good enough fly time to make one a veteran. She didn’t really like her job, but she had to do it anyway. A loner by nature, she preferred the one-seater scout craft over the larger naval cruisers. Twenty-nine, single and free, she had never really wanted the company of other humans, least of all men, now that the artificial simulators took care of her carnal needs.
“Yeah, who needs a smelly, sweaty experience when you can get as much fun or more from a flick of a switch?” She had often chuckled.
Tall, blonde and blue eyed, Amelia Killian was in perfect shape. Since her early years in the Space Academy, she was active, energetic and a fitness nut. Her body defied her age. She could pass off for a nineteen year old, thus making most people question her capabilities in situations that would require a more seasoned mind. She couldn’t care less for such misgivings about her, proving them all wrong almost every time.
Getting her hands on the fastest scout ship, the Recon-Nine, was a stroke of absolute luck. She had crashed her old ship, the Glade Runner, a week ago, trying to get away from a magnetic storm around Jupiter’s North Pole. She found herself on the orbiting space station and in quarantine, discharged after a day and the Recon-Nine waiting for her to take over, from the hapless Alexander Gordon, the star of the Space Patrol and her one time mentor. He had a stroke on patrol, the amiable old guy, and was quarantined for a month. He personally wanted her to take charge of his ship.
“Dropping out of hyperspace in ten seconds.” Jared droned, bringing her out of her thoughts.
“Maintain orbit of the targeted surface and run every scan in the program.” Killian ordered, inspecting her nails. “And initiate a log.”
“Already imitated.” Jared informed, almost gleefully. “Killian, Amelia, J – Year 2115, Day Seven of Month Three, 19.00 Hrs, Earth Time.”
“Good boy.” She smiled, keying in her codes for access and execution. “And I want a constant feed of it all into my neuron-receptors.”
“As always, Captain Killian.” The AI acknowledged.
“Let’s hope its some old relic from the early days of space exploration and we can go back to doing better things.” The pretty blonde sighed, thinking of her interrupted time in the simulator.
“Anomalies detected, Captain.” Jared shredded her hopes. “Design, symmetry and logarithmic patterns incompatible… and of alien origin.”
“Damn, there goes the week.” She punched the side of the console panel. “And I had my simulator primed for...”
“Status of scans complete.” Jared announced dutifully. “Alien craft and components confirmed at a hundred percent.”
“We need a real close look.” Killian nodded grimly, reading the reports on the monitors. “Initiate landing and get my exo-suit primed for hostile environment, classification E-91.”
“Affirmative, Captain. Landing in three… two… one… contact.” The computer program confirmed. “Exo-suit primed, shields at hundred percent and weapons set on vaporize.”
“All right.” She took a deep breath as the exo-suit aligned perfectly over her uniform. “Just one more thing before I go outside, Jared.”
“AC/DC’s ‘Smash and Grab’.” The program intoned flatly. “Though it might hinder your focus.”
“Digitized Rock music, even a hundred and four years old, keeps me in focus more than even you, J.” Killian snorted. “Hit it, baby. Let’s smash, grab and take it.”
“File initiated. Maintaining umbilical link at all times.” Jared sounded inside her head gear as the music erupted in full volume. “Good Luck, Captain.”
“What’s luck got to do with any of this?” She thought, but silently stepped out of the sleek, one-seater craft.
The Sun was a pale dot in the Neptunian skyline as the shapely young Space Patrol scout sashayed out on the barren surface of the Neptunian moon, grooving to her favorite song. The massive blue hued planet hovered menacingly over the moon, making her feel quite uncomfortable, even though she had been through it more times than she could remember. She focused on her music and the Alien craft, or what was left of it, as it lay buried under the bedrock, and seemed almost as if it was a part of the landscape. The metal chassis, if it was even metal, looked old and weathered, as if it was there for thousands of years.
“And maybe it was… maybe it crashed here millennia ago.” She breathed into the recorder. “Back when we were just learning to forge iron and steel back on mother Earth.”
The light from her exo-suit revealed strange markings on the surface - unique symbols of some kind. She made detailed recordings of the findings, sending them back to the ship’s databanks for analysis and archiving.
“It all looks quite dead and useless, but it could prove that there is or was life in the universe other than our own.” Killian made a note and unhooked her laser powered salvage cutter to carve out a sample for the labs back on the Command Cruiser.
The ageing alien metal surface was tougher than the steel used by the Fleet, she discovered, as her laser cutter struggled to penetrate the dense material. She reflected on the futility of it all. What possible difference would it make if they found out a little more about this immense universe?
“Well, it’s not my place to question why, as long as I get paid…” She shrugged, increasing the intensity of the cutter’s heat. “And I won’t if this damn thing remains impenetrable.”
With a sudden jolt, the embedded metal craft came to life, humming loudly. The body shook and wobbled, the surface seemed to transmute from solid to liquid and Killian found herself sinking into it. Horror stricken she called out to Jared, but all she could hear was static as the dim light of the distant sun began to fade away fast.
*-*-*
“Where the hell am I?” Killian opened her eyes with a start. “Jared? Jared, can you hear me?”
The silence chilled her to the bone as she sat up, looking around her dim surroundings. She was inside the alien ship and couldn’t recognize anything. It seemed like a large, cavernous place, as if it was a cave instead of a ship’s interior. Rising to her feet, she adjusted her exo-suit and gingerly walked forward. Not a sound could she hear, not even her own footfalls. The hollow chamber she found herself in gave way to a wide corridor, dimly lit.
“I hope that’s a way out of this wonderland.” She whispered to herself. “There’s some kind of static interference blocking my connection to the Recon-Nine.”
The corridor led to another chamber, smaller than the one she woke up in, and had three coffin-like capsules standing along the side. Her eyes went wide at the prospect of actually witnessing alien life forms, even if they could be just corpses.
“Damn! And I can’t send this data back to the ship.” She groaned, running her hands over the smooth curved surface of the capsule containers. “What is in these things… and how can I open them?”
She didn’t have to wait long, a strange humming sound filled the room and she lost her footing as the ship began to vibrate. She looked up in horror as the sliding lids of the three pods began to move. Stepping back, Killian pressed herself against the far wall, drawing her blasters and activating her shield to maximum. She waited for a while with bated breath, but nothing happened.
“Maybe they are still asleep, or even dead.” She mumbled to herself, gathering enough courage to venture closer. “I’ll just peep into one of them and then get the fuck out of here.”
The blonde young woman gingerly grasped the side of the first capsule and peered over the edge. A sudden jolt, like an electric shock, brought her to her knees. She gasped as a piercing pain exploded inside her head. She fell to the floor, moaning and panting. A st
range myriad of images flashed inside her head. Images she couldn’t recognize, like something from a dream or nightmare.
“What the hell is happening?” She managed to shriek and looked up at the capsules.
From the one in the middle, a shimmering light began to flicker and before her awestruck eyes, a human-like form stepped out of the flowing luminescence. It was male, at least in human terms. Tall and well built, it had broad shoulders, a wide chest, a narrow waist and thick muscular arms and legs. She looked up at the face and it was that of a man, a very handsome one too. She could have been looking at some godlike being of legend, it seemed to her. His eyes, black and shining, regarded her with interest, sending chills down her spine in wonder of his intent.
“Wh-who are you?” She demanded, a bit shakily.
He cocked his head sideways and looked at her even more closely. A strange burst of light went off inside her head and she dropped to her knees, gasping. The creature walked up to her and squatted down before her. She looked up in fear and her eyes went wide.
He looked even more handsome up close. His entire body was covered in a skin-tight shimmering blue scale-like armor, delineating every muscular ridge. The dark hair on his head was slick and stylized, his handsome features seemed chiseled and his thin lips appeared to curl up in a smile. The light in his dark eyes captivated her the most. She held up her blaster, her hand shaking.
“Who are you?” She asked again. “If you wish me harm… I’ll blast you to hell.”
“I am whatever you wish me to be.” His voice was deep and soothing, but his lips didn’t move.
“You’re an alien.” She said breathlessly, lowering her gun.
“As much alien as you are to me.” He replied without moving a facial muscle.
“How are you speaking without…?” She looked around frantically, expecting more of his kind.
“Telepathy is the word in your tongue.” His response seemed to form in her mind. “And rest your fears; I am the only presence here, other than yours.”
“But who are you and why are you here…on this dead moon.” She looked into his haunting eyes. “What happened?”
“I am Lonquardexus Inseminex 21, and I come from a distant world, a dying world.” He sounded sad.
“Lonkardense Seminal 21?” She repeated. “And why are you here?”
“Call me Lon.” He smiled briefly. “My mission is to find new worlds, habitable for our kind and propagate our species.”
“And how do you do that… Lon?” She eyed him with sudden fear.
“I am an inseminator… that is my sole function.” He pulsed impassively.
“What’s this world you come from… tell me everything, Lon.” She demanded, resisting the urge to reach out and touch his blue shimmering bodysuit.
“I shall, but first I must know how you came upon me and what happened here?”
“Well, we just found your ship…” She looked around the musty room. “…or what ever this is, buried on a dead moon in our solar system.”
“Ah, I see it now.” He pulsed thoughtfully; his handsome face twisting with pain. “A thousand cycles of your star has passed since the ship malfunctioned and had to crash-land here.”
“Do you mean you a thousand years here on this moon, or thousand Earth years?” She looked at him inquiringly. “It makes a lot of difference.”
“Earth is where you come from?” His eyes glistened with acknowledgment.
“Yes, it’s where all life in this solar system comes from…” Killian nodded, staring at him intently. “…except for you now, of course.”
“Yes, it is the third planet of this star… the one I was headed for, a thousand of its solar cycles ago.” He looked around his ship. “Your people have advanced much in a millennium of your terrestrial years to now attempt colonizing the entire star system.”
“You were coming to Earth a thousand years ago and ended up here?” She looked at him suspiciously. “How did that happen?”
“A malfunction. Possible sabotage. I am unclear.” He looked distant. “Insurgent factions on my world were in opposition to the further survival of our kind. They believed our time had ended naturally and we should accept that.”
“How about you start from the beginning?” She said with a shrug. “I have a whole week.”
“It is far too long a tale.” He looked pensive, creasing his brow and making her belly flutter. “I will keep it short. Many millennia, in your time scale, my home-world, Quados Prime, flourished and then our sun began to die. Our people, the thinkers among them and the doers, devised ways to help our kind survive. I am one such instrument. My mission is to locate prime worlds that have a matching environment as our own and propagate our species upon it.”
“How do you do that?” She whispered, leaning closer to him.
“That’s my functionality.” He replied, with a sense of pride. “To inseminate the gestation vessels and have our kind evolve within the species of the chosen world and live as one.”
“And by gestation vessels you mean the local female population.” She eyed him incredulously.
“Affirmative.” His eyes flashed.
“That’s not going to go down well in my report.” She shook her head in apprehension.
“That might be a moot point now.” He pulsed sadly. “A millennial of waste, I might be the last of my kind now.”
“Out of curiosity, how would you go about your mission, if it were still viable?” She stared into his deep, dark eyes.
“By inseminating the receptive gestation ves… local female populace…” He seemed to falter, looking a little confused.
“Is that like mass artificial insemination or…” She pressed on.
“One at a time, via normal copulating means.” He said, with an air of indifference. “Mass artificial process hinders the natural progression of consciousness…”
“And how many would you be inseminating that way?” She leaned forward, keenness etched on her lovely face.
“As many, if not all eligible receptacles.” Lon almost grinned.
“You mean, your mission is to fuck as many women you can.” She said with a sharp whistle. “That’s a dream job for any guy, no matter what planet.”
“It is an arduous undertaking.” He agreed, nodding his head.
“Well, you sure look like you are up to the task.” She eyed his impressive body admiringly. “What woman would refuse a free lay with a man-god like you?”
“Alas, it is too late now.” He sighed, pulsing at her softly. “I have failed in my mission, my people are no more … it is impossible to link the genetics back to my world.”
“You mean after you impregnate a… er… gestation vessel… a link is formed between the conception and your dying world?” Her blue eyes went wide with shock at the most absurd revelation she had ever heard.
“Yes, and by the link our collective consciousness can communicate and educate the new life forms of our values and culture.” Lon had an expression of calm on his handsome face. “…ensuring the survival of our kind on distant young worlds.”
“You mean the dying race of your world can live on here among people on Earth… as the people of Earth, like parasites.” Killian couldn’t overcome her surprise. “That’s so grossly creepy.”
“And now I have no purpose.” He looked up at the dark ceiling of his ship. “My people are extinct.”
“How can you tell that your people are no more?” She felt his sadness, it made her heart ache.
“Our consciousness is collective…” He responded desolately. “I cannot sense them, they no longer exist.”
“And you were the only one on this ship?” She looked around furtively, expecting more like him to melt out of the walls around them.
“Affirmative.”
“Why are there three coffins?” She pointed at the capsules.
“Three…?” His eyes narrowed and then he smiled. “Ah, the regeneration chambers… they are each for me, set for alternate
durations.”
“Regeneration?” Killian almost shrieked. “You mean like you die and are reborn?”
“We are not unlike. I have studied your species, before making the choice to seek your kind as our gestation vessels.” He nodded at her sagely. “You eat and sleep to regenerate, that is your evolutionary trait, and this, these coffins as you say, is ours.”
“This is getting weirder by the second.” She shook her head in disbelief. “But then you are an Alien.”
“As are you.” He smiled again.
“Yeah, and you’re hot.” She decided she had had enough of the science lessons. “Hotter than any guy I’ve ever seen.”
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