Page 32 of Uncovered By the Alien Commander

As my eyes continue scanning, it becomes apparent that almost everything might be on this extensive list, expanding my holographic projection further and further. The words are still minuscule, continuing forever. Do they expect anyone to remember all this?

I notice sly Mod moving a vial from his belt and slipping it into one of Quad’s pockets, scattered around his trousers. As Quad scratches his green bald head, a look of confusion spreads over his deep-set features. “Scoomer?” he bellows out with such loudness that we all wince, even startling the inspector. Time seems to slow as my blood rushes through my ears, pondering how out of the near-infinite words on the list, he chooses that one.

“You have something to declare, Barlyxian?” The inspector steps towards Quad, his voice no longer as disinterested as before.

Kaanus interjects the blue tint on his gray scales, almost as vivid as the gleaming, radiant crystal walls now. “Ignore my simple friend,” he gestures towards Quad, who is still thumbing through his own projection. “He’s prone to fits of fancy.”

The inspector holds up an armored hand for silence directed at Kaanus. “Barlyxian, answer me,” he demands with a heightened firmness now, as many defense drones whirl around us. Drawing my gaze is the exit leading deeper into the station. I contemplate making a dash.Could I make it before being caught?Only the open expanse and lack of shadows dissuade me.

Quad turns, peering down at the inspector with a broad grin on his face. “Scoomer, is stuff between toes?” he inquires with alook of complete seriousness etched on his expression. “How can toes be banned?”

The inspector’s shoulders slump as he sighs in exasperation. “I tried to warn you,” Kaanus offers, his tone now laced with sympathy, a stark contrast to the panic that had gripped us moments before.

“I’m too old for this voiding crap,” the inspector mutters beneath his breath, his words almost inaudible. The smaller drones emitting the green light over our goods halt and float away, prompting him to check his wrist console once again. “Seems your goods are in order. Please enjoy your stay...” he pauses, glancing between the defense drones with a heavy sigh. “At Omega Flux Station, where all your cosmic dreams become reality, may the flux be with you,” he delivers the canned message with all the enthusiasm of a broken polysynth board.

As the intimidating drones and the inspector disperse, clearing our path. Our party continues through the crystal tunnel through the wall, smothered in a crackling tense silence that electrifies the air. This area, too, is sparse with white-paved stone stretching out for what seems like infinity. However, dotted throughout are immense machines, lumbering like metal titans, processing and carrying megatons of raw materials and supplies on a scale that leaves me awestruck.

“Quad, I don’t know if I should shoot you or hug you. You big, dumb, bastard!” Kaanus exclaims, with excitement now we’ve distanced ourselves from the inspector. He turns to the entire crew, a smile beaming on his face. “We voiding did it! Well, done,” he finishes, pumping his scaled fist.

“Big but not dumb,” Quad protests, nodding his head. “And no hugs, only bashing,” he adds, pumping his meaty fists together, creating an ominous sound because of his heavy armor.

“The only bashing we’ll be doing is on our wrist console, spending our credits,” Kaanus laughs, his joy infectious, yet I donot share in it, as my eyes dart, searching for an opportunity to make my escape. The next obstacle to cross, barring my way to freedom, the thought fills me with anxious breaths.

“How come the drones never found the scoomer?” I interject, a sudden curiosity prompts me to speak as I never discovered where it’s being stored.

Hyanxa’s sneer carries venom, her words laced with malice. “Announce our crime louder, you stupid little bitch.” But her verbal assault has little effect on me, my mind already set on edge with the imminent danger looming ahead.

Kaanus waves a dismissive hand at Hyanxa. “Let’s just say Quad is a very valuable asset right now,” he chuckles, looking at Quad, who plods forward, oblivious to most things.

As we press on toward the colossal central crystal column, which stands as the radiant spine of this station, the surroundings morph into a more industrial landscape. Immense white metal structures dominate the area, venting gasses and belching exhausts which distort the air. Flames erupt on a grand scale adding to the spectacle, while colossal machines roar with activity handling vast quantities of materials. It’s as if we’ve stumbled upon a cosmic-scale processing plant, yet the exact purpose of these operations remains shrouded in mystery.

Is it possible to hide from machines?

“Psst.” A sound like a znat buzzes amongst the deafening crashes of immense industrial activity, interrupts my thoughts.

“You listen? Yes?” Job’s voice startles me as I notice he’s leaning in from behind. “You use fleshy bits. You make Captain listen. We need new parts. Yes?” he asks, his antenna waving near my face in excitement.

I sigh at his constant insistence and accusations. Job’s persistence about acquiring replacement parts for the ship borders on the fanatical, especially anytime we get near a trader.And he seems to think I have some sway over the Captain. The same Captain, who only a few days passed, beat me.

But he does lust after me. I could control him... for a price.

I crush the dark, treacherous thought, full of danger and distaste. It will all be irrelevant soon. “Yes Job, I’ll do just that,” I lie through my teeth, hoping to stave off his inevitable complaints.

“Really?” Job’s exclamation is one of shock. “Yes? You ask for twenty-six polysynth boards. Equipped with Nexus nine bypass—” he continues droning on, but I’ve already stopped listening.

The industrial sector recedes as many smaller structures appear and the thong of voices engaged in trade and conversations reach my ears. Alien species from all over the galaxies mingle, their garbs as different as the colorful nebulas in the cosmos. Argorians make up the majority, followed by Jungarians and Glaseroids. Yet none look as strange as me.

Except for Xandor and the Klendathians.

Such a silly thought, I am lost and alone. In the open spaces between the buildings, bustling auctions display large green projections of various goods for attendees to bid over. The milling of the crowd becomes disorienting. So many voices, so many beings all together, almost overwhelm my senses. I’m uncomfortable with this level of exposure, with so many eyes on me. Indeed, many stare at me with boldness, their eyes full of wonder, others with disdain.I’m strange and ugly to them.

For a moment, I fear I might faint as my vision blurs and my legs wobble, so overcome with all the activity that assaults my senses. Until Triandale places a steadying hand on my shoulder, snapping my focus back. “Stay strong, Lost One,” he reassures, his drooping tentacles fluttering. I take a moment, leaning on him to catch my breath and settle my wits.

“Hurry up, you two!” Kaanus calls back, waving, his voice almost lost among the din of the crowds. Prompting me to hurryto catch up with the others. The open auction areas give way to white paved lanes full of markets and stalls, as far as the eye can see. The crowds here are even thicker, forcing our group to push and shove through the throng.How can such a place exist?My heart races as my eyes dart, trying to process all the noise and alien beings.

Ahead, noisy holographic projections extend from the buildings, advertising every good and service the galaxies have to offer. These structures range from single story inviting eateries to massive towering constructions that stretch almost to the tier above. Most structures are colored in white, made from white stone, or the mesmerizing crystal mirroring the central structure of the station. A sense of relief fills me. Noticing this commercial area has many shadows, places to get lost in, places to hide.

Nestled between two extensive buildings lies a narrow, dark alley that beckons. Rubbing my locket as my breathing becomes erratic.Is this the right time? My chance to get lost, my chance at freedom?I inch forward, toeing the threshold of possibility.