It was an unassuming mining ship that first noticed the “dark spot.” The ore cruiser Terra Twin was in the middle of a routine navigation check when the ship’s computer flagged an anomaly. One of the primary navigation stars was being obstructed by an unidentified object.

  “Switch to secondary nav-set and display the object at full magnification,” ordered Commander Jeffrey Calan, leaning forward in his chair.

  “Fix positive. Object displayed,” the computer responded in its crisp monotone.

  Jeff frowned at the dark shape on the screen. “How far are we from it?”

  “Approximately seventy million miles,” came the reply.

  He exhaled through his nose. “Well, that’s not exactly up close and personal.” He drummed his fingers on the console, then gave his next command. “Alter course to intercept. Bring us in at one-thousandth—decelerate to fifteen hundred feet per second. When we’re within twenty-five thousand miles, slow the ship, and alert me at ten thousand miles from the surface.”

  As he left the central command cell, the ship’s hull thrummed softly, the fusion drives adjusting course with a practiced smoothness. Jeff made his way aft to the communications room, where technician Murray Dean was already at his station, fingers idly tapping against the console.

  “Hey, Jeff,” Murray greeted, not looking up. “Who do we bug first? Terra, or whichever UW station is fastest to respond?”

  “Terra,” Jeff replied. “And let’s not drag our feet on this. We could have a situation.”

  Murray cracked his knuckles and leaned toward his console, speaking into a black globe perched on a two-inch cylinder base. “Terra Twin OC 1732 of Charon Mining Co., registry TATNCH 1732, calling Terra Comm or any UW station inside Mars orbit. We’ve detected a large, unidentified object in this sector. Please advise.” With a quick hand motion across the globe’s surface, he set the message to repeat. He turned to Jeff with a grin. “I’m just saying, we might be about to make history.”

  Before Jeff could reply, the ship’s computer cut in, its voice steady as ever. “Stationary ship located ten thousand miles from the object's surface, Commander.”

  “Acknowledged. Maintain course,” Jeff instructed, then turned back to Murray. “You were saying?”

  Murray turned in his chair, eyes gleaming with excitement. “No object big enough to eclipse a star has been marked NPR in sixteen centuries! This is a big deal, man.” He tapped at his screen. “Everything that large was supposed to have been recorded from Terra before Luna was even explored.”

  Jeff snorted. “Well, I don’t know if they give medals to computers, but the log disk will show the Terra Twin’s system found ‘the big ugly,’ not us.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Murray sighed dramatically. “But it’s still a nice thought.”

  Jeff smirked. “Meantime, call a full crew meeting in twenty minutes.”

  “On it.” Murray touched two fingers to the left side of his desk and spoke. “Full complement meeting in eighteen minutes. Thank you.” He leaned back with a smug look. “Chung is gonna lose it,” he muttered, checking the chronometer. Gym period ran from 18:00 to 20:00. It was now 18:09 ship’s time.

  While Murray kept the transmission on loop, Jeff returned to the command cell and queried the computer for more information on the object.

  “Object diameter: sixteen thousand meters—approximately ten old Earth miles across. Spheroid shape. Initial radar analysis indicates a nickel-iron alloy, mostly smooth, with several dents and gouges present. Possible collision damage.”

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  “Motion?” Jeff asked.

  “Negative. Object is stationary relative to the star field. No detected energy or radiation signatures. Mass indicates it is either hollow or composed of lighter materials. Gravity pull is significantly weaker than expected for a metallic asteroid of comparable size.”

  Jeff rubbed his chin, considering this. An object that large, just sitting still in the void? Odd.

  The computer interrupted his thoughts. “Commander, our call to Terra Comm has been answered. Shall I articulate?”

  “Go ahead,” Jeff said, straightening up.

  The computer’s voice shifted to relay the received transmission. “Terra Comm Satellite Station GS Geneva 15. Message from United World Science Affairs Council to Commander Calan, ore cruiser Terra Twin of Charon Mining Co. Inspect and record all parameters of the unidentified object. Remain with the object until the arrival of the research vessel Argus, en route from Venus. Estimated arrival: eight hours subjective.”

  Jeff exhaled and shook his head. “Figures.” He turned to the console. “Transmit all current observed data to GS Geneva 15.”

  As he left the command cell, the computer added a final note. “Addendum to previous message. Prominent UW scientists postulate the unidentified object is a wandering asteroid.”

  Jeff threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, and half of those ‘prominent scientists’ have never set foot off-planet.” Still chuckling, he ducked under a support beam and made his way toward the common room, already bracing himself for Chung’s reaction.

  18:09 ship's time. Room M10 on the Terra Twin was occupied by one striking presence. Jamie Chung, six feet tall with coal-black hair and large green almond-shaped eyes, never slacked on physical fitness. Every movement she made was controlled, precise—a product of discipline and relentless training. As she stretched, her one-piece body stocking clung to her damp skin, a chill creeping over her as sweat cooled. She exhaled sharply, shaking off the sensation, and reached for the salmon ladder, ready to begin her routine. Then, Murray’s voice crackled over the intercom.

  “Attention crew, briefing in the common room at 18:30”

  Jamie froze mid-motion, fingers just brushing the rung. Her muscles tensed, heat rising up her neck. Damn it, Jeff. Her jaw clenched. She was a stickler for schedules, and this interruption had thrown her evening plan into chaos. Tightening her fists, she took a slow breath. Bide your time.

  Dropping from the bars, she landed with a controlled thud on the practice mat, grabbed her towel, and stomped off toward her quarters. Jeff was going to pay for this later—one way or another.

  Russell Carlin was hot, cramped, and buried in work deep within the bowels of his asteroid hopper, Terra Nova. He preferred it this way. Working alone, surrounded by machinery that didn’t waste time with small talk. A pocket tester clenched between his teeth, he tightened a coupler seal with both hands. The display flickered—metal fatigue detected. With a grunt, he yanked out the faulty fitting and replaced it with a new one. Efficient. Precise. Just like him.

  He had been out here for hours, inspecting and replacing worn-out H2 fittings before they became a problem. The work was grueling, but Russell thrived on it. At 6’5” and 260 pounds, his sheer size often made people assume he was just a brute. But brute force didn’t earn you system-wide efficiency bonuses. He had two major modifications in circulation on half the ore hoppers in the sector, both introduced before he was twenty-one.

  When Murray’s voice interrupted his solitude, Russell didn’t flinch. He sighed, slid out of the service hatch, and wiped the sweat from his forehead. If they were being called in, it meant something was up. Might as well grab some coffee before the meeting.

  At 18:30 ship’s time, the crew of the Terra Twin gathered around the teardrop-shaped conference table in the common room. The space was compact but efficient, with every element designed for maximum utility. A large glass stovetop, blender, food processor, hydration station, fridge, and microwave lined one wall, while the opposite side housed a sectional pantry and storage cabinets. At the back, a double sink and waste processor completed the setup. Once the meeting ended, the benches would retract seamlessly into the floor, a reminder that space was a commodity out here.

  Commander Jeff Murray sat at the tapered end of the table, his crew lining the sides. He surveyed them for a moment before pressing a button. A hologram flickered to life in the center of the table—a metallic, irregularly shaped mass rotating slowly in the air above them.

  “I’d like to say this is going to be as easy as falling off your g-bed,” Jeff started, “but it might not be. Terra and the other United Worlds are interested in our whatchamacallit here.”

  A collective groan rippled through the room. They had already been in space for three months. Another two waiting for a research ship from Venus wasn’t exactly welcome news.

  Jeff ignored their reactions. “While we’re here, they want us to learn as much as we can about it and record the data. Chung, Ennett.”

  Both crew members straightened. Jamie’s expression was unreadable, but the way she gripped her towel suggested she was still irritated.

  “I need both cameras on slow speed and maximum illumination to scan the surface as we orbit. If you can’t get good detail, switch to infrared and ultraviolet beacons.”

  Jamie, still toweling her damp hair, arched an eyebrow. “Should we tight-focus or wide-angle the lenses for faster coverage?” Her tone was even, but there was a sharpness to it. She was still annoyed.

  Jeff swallowed. She’s pissed. “Use wide angle unless you spot something interesting. Telephoto the highlights. Ennett, send telemetry through to Charon.”

  “Roger that.” Ennett nodded.

  Jeff turned to his mining crew. “Russell, that thing is fair-sized and metal-covered, according to the radar image. Take Nova and Cotta, since Three and Two are in for maintenance. Start at the center and deploy on courses 180 degrees apart. When you meet again north and south, return east and west. Gather samples and thermal readings. Operate your cutters slowly and ring charge it. It may be hollow. Take Shawn with you in Number Four. Chuck and Owen will take Number One.”

  Russell leaned back, arms crossed. “Alright,” he said, then smirked slightly. “What do you think we’ll find, boss?”

  Jeff exhaled, shaking his head. “The scientists think it could be a wandering asteroid, but it’s not moving. That theory’s in the flusher.”

  A few chuckles broke the tension.

  “The Argus should be here in about fifty-five to fifty-eight days. Then it’s three months of paid vacation for us. That sound good?”

  Moods visibly lifted around the table.

  Jeff glanced at each of them. “I’ll be in control. If any questions come up, call in. Use proper voice command procedure, though—our computer is feeding directly to Terra.”

  As the meeting wrapped up, Jamie rolled her shoulders and shot Jeff a look that promised she hadn’t forgotten his earlier interruption. Russell, meanwhile, took a long sip of coffee, already mentally planning his approach to the mystery object.

  Outside the ship, the void stretched on, silent and unknowable. Whatever was waiting for them out there, they were about to find out.