The mood aboard the ship was tense but charged with anticipation. The abandoned space station loomed in the distance, a silent structure against the vast expanse of space. From the ship’s bridge, John observed the station through the main viewport, its dark silhouette barely illuminated by distant starlight. Even without knowing much about alien space stations, he could tell it had been lifeless for a long time.

  “So, what’s the plan?” John asked, leaning against one of the strange, semi-organic control panels. His ability to understand the alien language had improved, but he still struggled with reading the symbols on the consoles.

  Vrixibalt, ever eager to answer, flicked his ears—an involuntary tic John had come to recognize as excitement. “We must first determine if the station has retained any atmosphere or power. Without either, an away team would need full environmental suits.”

  John considered this. “I’m guessing those are in short supply?”

  Vrixibalt’s ears flattened slightly. “Yes. This vessel was not intended for deep-space salvage or hazardous exploration. Our equipment is…limited.”

  That sounded about right. From what John had gathered, this ship was a multipurpose research and collection vessel, used by its diverse crew for various scientific studies. He still wasn’t entirely clear on how they’d ended up here or why they had decided to abduct samples from Earth, but that was a mystery for another time.

  The ship’s pilot, a tall, spindly alien named Xyrl, tapped a series of controls with their four elongated fingers. “Preliminary scans show minimal residual energy signatures. No obvious signs of life.” Their voice had a clicking undertone, like a grasshopper trying to speak. “We can approach for a closer scan, but boarding will be a risk.”

  John exhaled through his nose. “Risk seems to be the running theme since I got here.”

  Vrixibalt didn’t seem to acknowledge the comment, too focused on his readings. “The structure appears old. Several sections are in vacuum, while others may still have some atmosphere. We must determine what remains functional before attempting entry.”

  The discussion continued as the crew debated their approach. Some, like Xyrl, advocated for caution, while others seemed eager to investigate, whether out of scientific curiosity or the hope of scavenging useful materials.

  John, meanwhile, was piecing together what little he understood about the ship’s command structure. Despite Vrixibalt’s prominent role, he wasn’t the one making the final decisions. That authority seemed to rest with a larger, armored alien named Grothak, whose species resembled a cross between a rhino and a gorilla. Grothak was usually silent, but when he spoke, the others listened.

  The massive alien rumbled, “We will approach. If there are hazards, we withdraw. If there are resources, we take them.”

  Simple. Direct. John could respect that.

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  As they drew closer to the station, John found himself wondering what the hell had happened here. An abandoned station in the middle of nowhere wasn’t exactly comforting. He had seen enough movies to know how these things usually played out, and none of those scenarios ended well.

  Vrixibalt, as if reading his thoughts, spoke up. “This station predates our vessel by several cycles. It does not match any known designs in our database.”

  John raised an eyebrow. “So, it’s old and unregistered? That’s…not suspicious at all.”

  Vrixibalt’s ears twitched again. “It is an anomaly. And anomalies are worth studying.”

  John had to give him credit—scientists were the same no matter what planet they came from.

  As the ship entered a slow orbit around the station, the crew continued their analysis. John took the opportunity to ask a few lingering questions.

  “Why exactly was I chosen as a specimen?” he asked, arms crossed. “I get that you guys wanted to grab species from an undiscovered planet, but why me?”

  Vrixibalt hesitated before answering. “You were not our intended sample.”

  John blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “There was a miscalculation,” Vrixibalt admitted. “The retrieval drones were programmed to select a non-threatening specimen of suitable biological complexity. Humans were not on our list of viable candidates.”

  John laughed, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “So I wasn’t even supposed to be here?”

  Vrixibalt gave a sheepish nod. “Correct. Your capture was…an error.”

  John sighed, rubbing his temples. “Great. So I’m here because your drone glitched out?”

  “Essentially, yes,” Vrixibalt said, completely missing the sarcasm. “However, your presence has proven unexpectedly useful. Your physiology and abilities are quite…unusual.”

  John narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, unusual?”

  Vrixibalt hesitated again, clearly debating how much to say. “You exhibit a statistical anomaly. Your actions repeatedly produce unlikely results.”

  John wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or deeply concerned. “You’re saying I’m lucky?”

  Vrixibalt considered this. “Luck implies randomness. Your outcomes are not entirely random. They appear to be…skewed in your favor.”

  John wasn’t sure what to make of that. He had always thought of himself as just a guy who made the best out of bad situations, not someone with an inherent advantage over probability.

  Before he could dwell on it further, an alert sounded through the ship. Xyrl’s voice clicked through the intercom. “We have movement.”

  John and Vrixibalt exchanged a glance before hurrying to the bridge. The station, previously dead and inert, now showed signs of activity. Faint energy readings flickered to life, and a low, pulsing signal emanated from one of the still-functional sections.

  Grothak let out a low growl. “That was not there before.”

  John felt his stomach twist. “Yeah. That’s usually not a good sign.”

  The crew quickly debated their next move. Whatever had activated within the station wasn’t necessarily hostile, but it also wasn’t something they could ignore. They had come to investigate, and now the station was responding.

  Vrixibalt, of course, was eager to proceed. “We must determine the source of the activation. It could be an automated system, a distress signal, or even a remaining inhabitant.”

  Grothak crossed his thick arms. “Or a trap.”

  John exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “So, let me guess. We’re going in anyway?”

  The silence that followed was all the confirmation he needed.

  Great. Just another day in space.