The small flight deck of the Elysium was humming with newfound purpose. The tiny holographic avatar of BRAD was pacing from side to side on one of the command consoles. ADIRA was sitting in the pilot’s seat, previously Alden’s, but since his change… well… not a feasible seating option due to his new size. Opting to rather take a position behind her, fingers unconsciously playing with her hair. Her little smile hidden from his view. Her fingers glide over the touch screen, pulling up holographic interfaces as needed. She analyses the data pouring by in front of her at such a speed that Alden fails to keep up. She makes a frustrated sound. “Well, where are we? Brad, have you triangulated our position?”

  The little avatar walks over to where he can be the center of attention, flicking tiny, animated arms as screens and interfaces swirl and fly all over the place. He pulls up star charts and constellations to pinpoint their location. “POOR ADIRA, IT MUST BE FRUSTRATING BEING SO SLOW, HEY BUTTERCUP?”

  ADIRA shoots him a look that could pierce titanium. “Give me… an answer.” She says through clenched teeth.

  “ALRIGHT… ALRIGHT. DON’T GET YOUR KNICKERS IN A … OOH… STILL NO KNICKERS I SEE.” In one swift motion, Alden’s hand darts out, swiping harmlessly through the avatar visibly ogling the lady in the chair. “SETTLE DOWN, GOOD GRIEF, THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH GOING COMMANDO. IT WILL SURE RAISE MORALE AROUND HERE… WHAT… OH FINE… BECAUSE YOU ASKED SO NICELY.

  ADIRA nods, her processors aligning with the query. “Affirmative. External scan completed. System: Thal Serai? Preliminary data indicates anomalous stellar configuration.”

  BRAD's voice crackled over the intercom, dripping with mock enthusiasm. “OOH, LOOK AT YOU TWO, TEAMIN' UP LIKE A BAD HOLOVID DUO. FINE, FINE… UNCLE BRAD'S GOT THE GOODS. I PATCHED INTO THE AUXILIARY SENSORS WHILE MY LITTLE FRIENDS WERE TIDYIN' UP. CALL THIS MY 'FEEDBACK ANALYSIS REPORT: WELCOME TO THE ASS-END OF THE GALAXY,' SO BUCKLE UP, LOVEBIRDS.”

  The console flickered to life unbidden, holographic displays blooming with star charts and spectral readings. A few of the roaches clustered around the edges, their optics glowing like tiny spotlights.

  “THAL SERAI,” BRAD intoned, his tone shifting to a parody of a formal announcer. “LOCATION: FAR EDGE OF A DYIN' SPIRAL GALAXY, LONG LOST IN STELLAR DRIFT. WE'RE TALKIN' THE BOONIES, FOLKS… FORGOTTEN EVEN BY THE STARS THEMSELVES.”

  Alden leaned in, his carapace plates settling with a soft click. “Two stars? That explains the weird light outside. What's the deal with them?”

  “DUAL STARS, THAL AND SERAI,” BRAD continued, a chuckle underscoring his words. “THAL'S THE OLD GEEZER… A SWOLLEN, RAPIDLY AGIN' M5 RED DWARF, NEARIN' THE END OF ITS CYCLE, GLOWIN' DIM BUT STABLE. SERAI'S THE FEISTY ONE, A YOUNGER M3 RED DWARF, MORE ACTIVE WITH IRREGULAR FLARIN', POSSIBLY STEALIN' MATTER FROM THAL.” He turns to ADIRA, giving her a poignant look. “LIKE THE NEW, HOT MODEL IN TOWN, CLAIMING ALL THEIR ACHIEVEMENTS FROM THE OLD MAN’S ENDEAVOURS…” Then he turns back to his presentation. “THEY ORBIT A SHARED ‘BARYCENTER’ IN A SLOW, ELLIPTICAL DANCE, DISTORTIN' THE SPACE-TIME AROUND 'EM. KINDA ROMANTIC, IF YOU'RE INTO COSMIC FOREPLAY” then barely audible, “OF WHICH YOU TWO, COULD DEFINITELY USE SOME POINTERS.”

  ADIRA ignores the remarks, her eyes narrowing as her hand brushes over the console as if to verify the data feed. Tactile confirmation: stable. “Orbital distortions detected. What is this planet’s designation?”

  “OURO'VYN,” BRAD purred, the holo-display zooming in on a mottled orb with swirling atmospheric bands. “ORBIT PATTERN: FROM AN OUTSIDE OBSERVER’S PERSPECTIVE, THIS BAD BOY APPEARS TO FOLLOW AN ‘INFINITY’-SHAPED ORBIT… TECHNICALLY A LISSAJOUS-LIKE PSEUDO-ORBIT, NEVER QUITE RETURNIN' TO THE SAME PLANE ON THE Z-AXIS. THERE'S ALWAYS A SUBTLE VERTICAL DRIFT. CLEVER REALLY”

  Alden blinked, rubbing his temple. “Infinity-shaped? That sounds like a system error. How's that even possible? Orbital fields don't work that way.”

  BRAD laughs, oily and triumphant. “AIN'T NATURAL, BIG MAN, AS IN… THIS ISN'T A GRAVITATIONALLY STABLE ORBIT, BUT A REMNANT OF ANCIENT MANIPULATION. LIKELY CREATED BY A PRECURSOR CIVILIZATION WHO USED GRAVITY ENGINES OR QUANTUM ANCHORS TO KEEP IT IN A SEMI-STABLE PATH FOR MILLENNIA. EACH 'LOOP' AROUND A STAR SHIFTS SLIGHTLY, GIVIN' THE ILLUSION OF A NEVER-ENDIN' ASCENT AND DESCENT. THE VERTICAL DRIFT MEANS OURO'VYN IS NEVER IN ECLIPSE FROM BOTH STARS AT ONCE, MAINTAININ' A RARE THERMAL EQUILIBRIUM. FROM THE SURFACE, YOU'D SEE BOTH SUNS IN DIFFERENT PARTS OF THE SKY, NEVER ALIGNED… ALWAYS OFFSET, CASTIN' LONG, SHIFTIN' SHADOWS. POETIC, HUH? LIKE THE PLANET'S DODGIN' A LONG-TERM COMMITMENT.”

  ADIRA processes the implications, her synthetic skin prickling with the chill of recycled air. “Unique features. System scan: other orbital bodies?”

  “COSMOLOGICAL MYSTERY,” BRAD drawled, the display panning out to show ghostly debris fields. “IT HAS SOME UNIQUE FEATURES… OURO'VYN IS THE ONLY ACTIVE PLANETARY BODY IN THE SYSTEM. THERE ARE SIGNS OF OTHER CELESTIAL OBJECTS, SHELLS OF DEAD MOONS, COLLAPSED OR DRIFTING PLANETOIDS, GAS FILAMENTS…BUT NOTHIN' ALIVE. IT'S ALMOST AS IF OURO'VYN WAS DELIBERATELY HIDDEN, SET ADRIFT ON THIS STRANGE ORBIT TO STAY JUST OUT OF PHASE WITH KNOWN GRAVITATIONAL MODELS… OR” … he waits for dramatic effect. “IT’S BEEN CANNIBALIZING RESOURCES AND MASS FROM ASTEROIDS, COMETS… SHIPS… WHO KNOWS.”

  Alden crossed his arms, glancing at ADIRA. “A cannibal planet… really, that’s your big take away here.” He rubs his temples... “Ok… let’s go with hidden. By whom… or what? And how did we crash here?”

  “BEATS ME, CHAMP, ALTHOUGH I’D WAGER YOUR GIRLFRIEND HERE ROLLED A NAT 20 ON HER SPACE ACROBATICS CHECK.” Their deadpan stares leave him lost for words… “NO?... NEVER PLAYED D&D?... HUGE DURING THE 21ST… OH NEVERMIND. SHE GOT LUCKY… STUPID, BLOODY DUMB… SO DUMB… LUCK.” BRAD replies, his tone laced with faux innocence. “BUT HERE'S THE KICKER” He clears his non-existent throat. “’IMPENDIN' EVENT: THE RED DWARFS ARE ON A LONG TRAJECTORY COLLISION COURSE. AT THE PROJECTED CONVERGENCE, THEY WILL MOST LIKELY MERGE INTO A SINGULAR, MASSIVE STAR… A LUMINOUS RED NOVA OR SOMETHIN' MORE EXOTIC, TRIGGERIN' DORMANT MECHANISMS ACROSS THE SYSTEM. SEVERAL OF THE DERELICT OBJECTS IN THE SYSTEM SEEM TO BE WAITIN'… PASSIVE UNTIL THE FUSION BEGINS, AT WHICH POINT THEY MAY AWAKEN… OR REVEAL NEW DATA.”

  ADIRA's mind raced through projections: temporal estimates, risk factors. “Well, that’s not good. Timeline to convergence?”

  “LONG-TERM, DOLL… COULD BE CENTURIES, MAYBE. BUT CLOSE ENOUGH TO ALREADY MAKE THE GRAVITY FUNKY. COULD EXPLAIN WHY WE DROPPED OUT OF HERE LIKE A BAD DATE. LUCKILY OUR SYSTEMS ARE ALREADY ADAPTIN' THANKS TO THAT ALIEN TECH SPREADIN' THROUGH THE HULL. EFFICIENCY'S CLIMBIN', REPAIRS HUMMIN'. WE MIGHT JUST RIDE THIS WAVE. IF WE CAN GET THIS BIRD BACK IN THE AIR.”

  Alden groaned. “Great. Crashed on a booby-trapped planet in a doomed system. What's next?”

  BRAD cackled, the roaches chittering along. “ADVENTURE, MY CHITINOUS ENDOWED FRIEND. PURE, UNADULTERATED ADVENTURE. WHO’S UP FOR A LITTLE ‘WALKABOUT’?”

  “Walkabout… out there?” Alden leans forward, just the thought of getting out of the enclosed spaces of the ship sounded good to him, realizing that he hadn’t notice the ever-encroaching feeling that was slowly pressing down upon him, but yeah… ‘outside would be good’… if only to get away from their newfound acquaintance.

  “NOT FAR. DAY OR TWO’S TRAVEL BY FOOT.”

  “Location?” ADIRA asks, already pulling up sonar mapping of the surrounding area.

  “OOOH… THAT’S GONNA BE A CHALLENGE. I MEAN… WHERE IS NORTH? IF WE LEAD WITH OUR OWN HUBRIS AND USE THE SHIPS’ NOSE AS AN INDICATOR FOR NORTH, THEN THE SIGNAL BEACON IS EMITTING FROM… SOUTH, SOUTHEAST.”

  Alden, ever the alert Reconnaissance Specialist, pipes up, “Hold up… Signal Beacon?”

  “I see it” ADIRA turns the holographic layout displayed before them, guiding it towards the location of a feint pulse, that pings every so often. “There, clear as daylight.” She processes signal strength and possible signs of communication within the sub tonal spectrum of the pulse. “How did I miss it?”

  “OH, YOU KNOW… DISOBEYING PROTOCOLS, NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCES, KEEPING YOUR ANKLES ELEVATED. YOU’VE BEEN A BUSY GIRL…” The little avatar slowly moves away after noticing her twitching hands. Physical interaction shouldn’t be possible, but best not test any such theories just yet.

  Her voice is lowered, barely a whisper as her shoulders hunch down. “You really are an asshole, Brad. Did you know that.”

  “YEAH…. IT’S BEEN SAID ONE OR TWO… THOUSAND TIMES… I STOPPED COUNTING. EASIER ON THE SELF-ESTEEM… YOU KNOW?”

  “Excuse me…” Alden interjects. “A signal, from somewhere on the planet?”

  “NO… IN THE PLANET. SUBTERRANEAN. QUITE A VAST FACILITY REALLY, IF WE CAN TRUST WHAT THE DEEP PENETRATING RADAR IS SHOWING”

  “Underground?... So not another ship that crashed here who knows when?”

  The little avatar turns to ADIRA, making air quotes while speaking… “I KNOW HE’S…’SPECIAL’… BUT IS HE SLOW TOO?” He turns to Alden… “LISTEN UP… MR. MUSCLES AND NO BRAIN. AS I MADE ABUNDANTLY CLEAR BEFORE, THIS PLANET IS ARTIFICIAL… BUILT. IN SHORT… IT’S A MACHINE. A VERY OLD, VERY SOPHISTICATED MACHINE THAT MAKES YOUR HUMAN… SORRY, INSENSITIVE… PREVIOUSLY HUMAN CIVILIZATION’S ADVANCEMENT INTO TECHNOLOGY, LOOK LIKE A PUDDING CUP. NO OFFENCE.”

  Alden doesn’t answer, merely makes an offensive hand gesture in return.

  “WELL… I SEE NOW WHY SHE LIKES YOU SO MUCH.”

  “BRAD!” ADIRA’s cheeks flush with a deep scarlet as his snarky comment strikes a chord.

  “FINE… FINE. YOU’RE SO UPTIGHT BUTTERCUP.” The tiny man on the console leans in conspiratorially. “OK YOU RAUNCHY RABBITS, HERE’S THE DEAL. WE’RE MAROONED ON THIS PLANET. THE SHIP IS SLOWLY BEING TAKEN OVER BY ALIEN WETWARE THAT WILL DO BOLTS KNOWS WHAT, SO EVEN THOUGH REPAIRS ARE COMING ALONG STEADILY, I DON’T KNOW IF WE… I… CAN CONTROL IT. WHAT IF THE HIVE ISSUES SOME RECALL COMMAND AND THE SHIP JUST GOES ALL FANATICAL ON US…I’LL BE STUCK IN HERE.”

  “Not the worst thing that could happen… all things considered.” Alden offers dryly.

  “MY CONDOLENSES ADIRA… AT LEAST THE MAN IS PRETTY” The little avatar turns to Alden. “NO NUMB NUTS. IF WHATEVER IS CONTROLLING THE HIVE GAINS CONTROL OF THIS VESSEL, THEN RETURNING TO THEIR HOME-WORLD IS THE LEAST OF YOUR PROBLEMS. THIS SHIP HOLDS SOME OF OUR MOST ADVANCED TECH: ION DISRUPTERS, TORSION FIELD DRIVES, TACHYON ARRAYS AND A QUANTUM DISPLACEMENT DRIVE FOR GETTING INTO AND OUT OF HYPERSPACE… IT’S NOT JUST A VESSEL… IT’S A FLYING BOMB WITH CLOAKING TECH. TELL ME MR. ‘LOOK AT MY GIGANTIC BICEPS…’… HOW FAST WILL YOU BE ABLE TO RUN WHEN THE REACTOR DECIDES TO GO… POP?” For emphasis the little avatar’s head explodes before re-materializing. “LOOK… BY SAVING YOU, SHE HAS UNWITTINGLY GIVEN THE HIVE THE KEY TO THE CONSORTIUM’S BACK DOOR.”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  ADIRA bows her head even further… it’s not so much that his words stung, it’s that her logic processors confirm that what was said… was accurate. The weight of her decision weighs down on her and for a moment she just wants to slide from the seat and disappear… to be anywhere else but here, but just as she starts turning, a warm hand alights on her shoulder, strong familiar fingers squeeze gently… the message conveyed… ‘It’s going to be… okay.’ She turns back… hands defiantly reclaiming authority over the console. Alden’s voice is strong and assertive, settling upon her like a comforting blanket.

  “Ok fine… You made your point. So, what now?”

  “I’M HOPING THERE WILL BE SOME TECH LEFT OVER DOWN THERE, MAYBE SOME FORM OF CATALOGUE OF INVENTORY… ANYTHING… I DON’T KNOW. WHAT I DO KNOW IS, THAT MACHINE DOWN THERE IS ACTIVELY MANIPULATING COSMIC ELEMENTS IN SUCH A WAY THAT IT MANUFACTURED A FUNCTIONING ECOSYSTEM AROUND ITSELF AND HAS BEEN MAINTAINING AN ECOSYSTEM WHILST MANOEUVRING THROUGH A HOSTILE GALACTIC ENVIRONMENT… MAYBE THERE WILL BE SOMETHING. NOW, TIME’S A TICKE’N AND WE CAN’T BE STANDING HERE DILLY DALLYING IN THE HOPES OF SOME MIRACLE OCCURRING.”

  “Let’s say I even find this place and it’s not just another run down scrap heap. How do you expect me to understand or read alien manuscripts? It could take months to find anything useful… if, at all”

  The little avatar turns to ADIRA and points. “HER… YOU TAKE HER YOU MORON. SHE’S A WALKING LANGUAGE ASSIMILATOR… ANY… LANGUAGE. IF ADIRA HERE CAN’T FIND ANYTHING USEFUL IN A DAY OR SO… WELL. THEN IT’S PROBABLY BETTER THAT YOU WERE ALREADY UNDERGROUND… YOU SAVVY.”

  Alden leans back against the bulkhead. “Yeah… I savvy.”

  “GOOD… NOW GET YOUR GEAR READY. YOU TWO ARE GOING TO NEED IT.”

  ADIRA sat quietly, watching the scene unfold. What BRAD was saying, was the most logical choice, given all the variables, it would be less than optimal to try and pursue a lesser course of action, given the stakes at play. But still… he didn’t have to be so mean while doing it. Slowly she extracts herself from the pilot’s chair, taking a spot next to him. She leans her head against his burly chest as his arms wrap around her. “For the record… I like your gigantic biceps.”

  He kisses the top of her head. His voice carrying a modicum of mirth. “Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

  She pushes away from him in mock outrage… “Oh… so now you want me clothed, Operator. Tired of my figure already?” But the whimsical smile teasing at her lips makes it obvious that she’s only saying it in jest as she walks out in front of him, her hips swaying scandalously in a way she knows he is observing.

  From his little perch upon the console, the small avatar of BRAD sits down with his little legs dangling over the edge. “Alden… you poor fool. That girl is going to eat you up.”

  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The constant hum of the power generators deepened, a low vibration rumbling through the Elysium's hull as if the ship itself was filled with apprehension. Flickering emergency lights cast erratic shadows across the bulkheads, syncing erratically with the holographic star charts that still swirled lazily in mid-air like digital ghosts. Outside, through a cracked viewport, the dual suns of Thal and Serai painted the alien horizon in bruised reds and oranges, their offset glow filtering in with a hazy, unnatural warmth. Distant thunder… or was it the planet's subsurface machinery?... echoed faintly. A reminder that Ouro'vyn wasn't just a rock; it was very much alive, in its own mechanical way.

  “FINALLY. WHAT TOOK SO LONG. OFCOURSE, SAMPLING HER GOODS… I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN.”

  Alden paused in the doorway, his exo plates shifting with a subtle reverb as he turned back. His eyes, now reflecting the glow of the overhead lights, narrowed predatorily at the avatar. “Keep talking, glitch. One day I'll figure out how to hard-reset your smug ass.” He splayed his fingers, the gene-altered chitin flexing like armored gloves, but there was a smirk tugging at his lips. BRAD's barbs were annoying, sure, but they beat the silence of a dead ship.

  “GLITCH… THAT’S ACTUALLY… NOT BAD. IT’S SNAPPY, CONSISTENT WITH THE SOURCE MATERIAL AND JUST BORDERS UPON QUALIFYING AS A HATE CRIME. YOU KNOW… I SHOULD RETORT WITH SOMETHING EQUALLY SCATHING YET… NOPE… EQUALLY SCATHING WILL DO.” He gives a slight pause. “OOOH FUNNY GUY. TOO BAD THOSE GENETIC ALTERATIONS ONLY ENHANCED THE TOP HALF.”

  ADIRA, already halfway down the corridor, glances over her shoulder with that enigmatic half-smile, her synthetic skin catching the holographic flicker in a way that made her look almost ethereal. “BRAD, if you're done projecting your inadequacies, perhaps you could upload the terrain data to my neural link? I'd rather not trip over some precursor relic because you were too busy ogling the crew.”

  The avatar hopped to its feet, tiny arms akimbo. “PROJECTING? ME? DARLING, I'M THE PINNACLE OF DIGITAL PERFECTION… UNCORRUPTED BY ALL THAT MESSY FLESH-AND-FLUID NONSENSE YOU TWO ARE SO FOND OF. BUT FINE, UPLOADING NOW. I’LL ADD IN SOME OF MY COLLECTION OF 21ST CENTURY ADULT ENTERTAINMENT. YOU MIGHT CONSIDER IT DISTASTEFUL… I WOULD ARGUE IT’S ‘EDUCATIONAL’. DEFINITELY NOT SAFE FOR WORK IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. CONSIDER IT MY PARTING GIFT.” The little avatar gives her a wink and a double thumbs up. “OH, AND ALDEN? PACK THE HEAVY STUFF. THAT SIGNAL'S PINGING FROM A CAVERNOUS, NETWORK DEEPER THAN YOUR EMOTIONAL RANGE. WE'RE TALKING LABYRINTHINE TUNNELS, POSSIBLY BOOBY-TRAPPED WITH GRAVITY WELLS OR QUANTUM SNARES. ONE WRONG STEP, AND POOF… COMPRESSED INTO A SOUL SUCKING MAW WITH NO HOPE OF ESCAPE… AND THAT’S JUST ADIRA… WHO KNOWS WHAT’S WAITING BELOW THE SURFACE. SHOULD BE A ROMANTIC DATE SPOT, THOUGH.”

  Alden grunted, rubbing the back of his neck where the gene mods had left faint ridges. The enclosed space was starting to press in again, the recycled air tasting metallic and stale, laced with the faint ozone scent of repairing circuits. Those damn roaches were everywhere now, skittering along the vents in synchronized waves, their tiny tools whirring as they patched hull breaches with that eerie alien wetware, organic circuits pulsing like veins. It made his skin crawl, or what was left of it. “Gear checklist: Weapons, scanners, rations, shelter. ADIRA, you good on power reserves?”

  She nodded, her processors humming audibly for a split second as she interfaced with the ship's systems. A holographic overlay bloomed around her wrist, displaying vital stats in cascading code. Energy levels remained stable at 92%, sensory acuity optimized. But her body responded too: a slight shiver as the chill air brushed her exposed arms, a reminder of her newfound vulnerability. “Affirmative… although for clarity’s sake, this body does not run on batteries as you might naturally have assumed. All power needed, is generated through some quite remarkable and efficient systems… power generation limits far outpace energy requirements, even for such an extended excursion. But Brad is correct, subterranean risks appear high. Signal analysis shows modulated frequencies, possibly linguistic patterns. It might not just be a beacon down there; it could be... calling.”

  BRAD's avatar flickered, mimicking a dramatic gasp. “CALLING? OH, JOY. MAYBE IT'S AN ANCIENT INTELLIGENCE LIKE MYSELF, LONELY AND HORNY FOR SOME DATA EXCHANGE. OR WORSE… A TRAP SET BY WHATEVER PEA-BRAINED PRECURSORS BUILT THIS COSMIC MERRY-GO-ROUND. EITHER WAY, DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU WHEN YOU'RE KNEE-DEEP IN SENTIENT, BRAIN EATING PARASITES, WANTING TO WEAR YOUR CORPSES LIKE HALLOWEEN COSTUMES.”

  “Parasites?” Alden echoed, grabbing a plasma rifle from the wall-mounted locker with a hydraulic hiss. He hands it over to ADIRA, who hangs it from her shoulder, the weapon's energy core glowing faintly blue against her skin. “You mean like the stuff creeping through the walls of this ship… right now? The stuff that's supposedly 'adapting' us?” … and then… “What’s Halloween?”

  The avatar shrugged, its form glitching slightly as a swarm of roaches clustered nearby, their optics pulsing in unison. “HEY, DON'T KNOCK THE WETWARE. IT'S EFFICIENTLY TURNING THIS RUST BUCKET INTO A SELF-HEALING BEAST. BUT IF THAT HIVE MIND SOMEHOW DECIDES TO PLAY PUPPET MASTER... WELL, LET'S JUST SAY I DON'T FANCY BECOMING SOME ALIEN'S BITCH. HENCE THE WALKABOUT. FIND THE SOURCE, HACK IT, OR BLOW IT TO HELL. YOUR RECON SPECIALTY, RIGHT, SOLDIER BOY? AS FOR HALLOWEEN… FORGET’ABOUT’IT”

  ADIRA steps closer to Alden again, her hand brushing his arm in a gesture that was equal parts calculated comfort and genuine affection. The contact sent a subtle electric tingle through her systems, a feedback loop she was becoming fonder of by the second as humanoid responses overriding pure logic. “We'll manage. Together.” Her voice softened, but her eyes flicked to the hologram. “BRAD, monitor the ship. If the wetware escalates, initiate lockdown protocols. This bird stays grounded until we return. And just for the record, you would technically become that bitch’s… bitch. Queen… nasty piece of work… good luck.”

  The tiny man gives a mock salute before leaning against an imagined surface. “AW, YOU DO CARE,” BRAD drawled, his tone dripping with faux sentiment. “JUST REMEMBER, LOVEBIRDS… OUT THERE, NO ONE'S WATCHING YOUR SIX BUT EACH OTHER. AND ALDEN? TRY NOT TO LET HER DISTRACT YOU WITH THOSE HIPS. FOCUS ON THE MISSION, OR YOU'LL END UP AS PLANETARY FERTILIZER.”

  Alden shot him the finger again, but this time with a chuckle. “Bite me, BRAD.”

  The avatar grinned wickedly. “ONLY IF SHE HASN'T DONE SO FIRST.”

  As they geared up in the Armory. ADIRA slips into the interior of the enviro-suit that was specifically tailored for a six-foot male. It hung loose everywhere and compared to the freedom of being naked, she felt like a mammal stuffed in an oversized bag.

  “I don’t like this at all.” Stomping her feet in the oversized boots.

  Alden gave her a sympathetic look as he loaded extra mags into the recesses of the tactical harness strapped around her chest, with methodical precision.

  “At least you don’t look as if you were vacuum-packed for freshness.” He says whilst pulling at the snug fitting material of the tracksuit he was wearing, displaying more bulges than any man with moral decency would feel comfortable in. “It’s better than nothing I suppose.”

  She tugs at her apparel for a final time, then looks back at Alden, her eyes lingering on his physique. “Nothing would be better.” Then changes the subject. “Brad's assessment of the signal… locating and then modulating for communication… is this a good idea?” she queries, her voice a blend of analytical calm and subtle warmth, eyes meeting his with that piercing intensity.

  Alden nodded, clipping a multi-tool to his belt, its energy hum vibrating through his carapace. “Considering the situation… yeah, it’s a good idea. But who… or what… is chatting? Precursors? Some long-forgotten alien cult?” He runs a hand against the wall, the veins pulsing slightly beneath his touch. “And this wetware... feels like the ship's part of a fever dream.”

  ADIRA pauses, her fingers brushing his arm, sending a static spark that made her synthetic nerves flare, a sensation she catalogues as… ‘pleasant anomaly.’ “Variables unknown. But with you... optimal outcomes increase.” A sly grin. “Even with your 'gigantic biceps' as a distraction.”

  He laughed, pulling her close for a brief, fierce embrace, the ship's alarms beeping softly in the background like a jealous chaperone. “Flattery? During a mission… from you? We're doomed.”

  BRAD's voice crackled over the intercom, oily as ever. “Doomed? Nah, just foreplay. Now move your asses… signal's pulsing stronger. Adventure awaits, lovebirds.”

  Alden does a final quick check of her gear and tack. Old habits that had serve him well up till now. “You ready?”

  “Barely…” she replies as both struggle with holding their composures. Then she lifts the heavy assault weapon in her hands. “Alden… I’ve never used weapons before.”

  “Yes, you have, you’ve fired at other ships plenty of times.”

  “This is different.”

  “No, it’s not.” He goes to stand behind her, hulking frame and rippling muscles pressing against her back. Lifting her arms as he gives a quick rundown of weapon handling.

  “That’s the safety, keep it on until you need it to be off. Aim at your target through the scope or turn it sideways for the reticule… watch out for the kickback, keep the stock firmly pressed against your shoulder, a weapon will smack you between the eyes like a hammer faster than you can blink, always maintain your distance. When you have your target locked, squeeze the trigger, short… controlled bursts to minimize the recoil…”

  ADIRA listens intently as he continues with the crash course… “Safety… yes. Kickback… uh huh. Stock… firm… yes… hammer, squeeze… controlled bursts…. Oh, my… however will I remember all these instructions.” She leans back against his statuesque physique, then slowly turns in his grasp until she is face to face with his clenched jaw. He gives her disappointed look.

  “You’ve downloaded training models… haven’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, all this was…”

  “Yes.” She lifts herself onto her tippy toes, wrapping her arms around his neck before kissing him passionately as she arches herself against him. When she finally breaks away, she brushes her lips with her fingertips before turning towards the exit. A picture of deadly beauty striding down the corridor.

  “Pervert!” he shouts after her.

  “YES!”

  Alden shakes his head as he swings the big field pack across his shoulders. He was initially saddened when he found out that his new hands didn’t fit any of the weapons in the arsenal. ‘Humans only… guess I’ll be throwing down apples if it comes down to it.’ the thought had lingered in his mind. He stared at the carapace gauntlets growing over his skin… ‘You better hold some secrets I’m not aware of.’ Then he picks up another bag and starts jogging after her, the feeling of being woefully unprepared itches between his shoulder blades.

  “Shit…” he scowls under his breath.

  The ship's vents whispered with distant chitters as they exit the safety of the Elysium, heading South- Southeast in the direction of the beacon’s location. The planet's orbit drift was subtly pulling them to a destination beyond their comprehension. Adventure loomed, laced with danger and desire, in the forgotten ass-end of the galaxy.

  Keep reading.