How beautiful, perfect, exquisite, was the coming death. He had never seen a ship glide so smoothly out of hyperspace. Here was craftsmanship beyond his ken. Vaguely, he guessed the readings on his panel meant they were charging some weapon, though he could not be sure. The computer gave no name to the building radiation coming from her.
“Hail, unknown ship,” he spoke with a trembling voice.
Silence, and a flash of light, then darkness.
He was not dead, or so he guessed. He was aware, aware enough, at least, to know he wasn’t cramped tight in the cockpit anymore. Had he been swept into the void? Were these just his last few moments, frozen in adrenaline induced slow motion, before the pressure of his own body burst in the illimitable emptiness of space?
But no. Disorientated, he still felt, and it was his first clue as to where he was, the downward pull of gravity. So, he thought, I’m planetside. Rescued? By friend or foe?
His eyes slowly opened.
He knew where he was, though he didn’t know how he knew. It was the ship. Purple things, like trees, scuttled about; evidently the crew. How was there gravity, he wondered, on a ship?
From wherever he was, he could see the monitor, see his own ship, hanging there above his home, standing between his home and this miracle.
Now he was moving, by what means or will he could not name, toward the screen.
“Hailing Excelsior!” his voice rang out. “We come in peace. We only wish to orbit your sun and recharge our cells. Please do not fire your primitive weapons as we will be forced to destroy you. Forest of the D’roo’m out.” He said all this, not knowing what it meant or who, really, was speaking.
Then darkness returned, and his eyes closed as a sleep not unlike death stole over him.
Tale Told 