Logan decided to lead the expedition. His first officer insisted against it, but the formality of Terrace military operations ill sufficed in this sort of bizarre situation. At a time like this, whomever he came face to face with deserved to speak with a representative of the armed forces. He might not be able to speak for the world back home or the whole of the government, but amongst the crew of Cruise Light, he was the closest to an actual representative.
Logan set foot outside the air lock of a subterranean alien world, so to speak. It appeared like planetoid from the upper atmosphere, but as the ship neared, he found the surface formed by pipelines that stretched across the rocky outer shell, like literal veins for some mechanized monstrosity. Logan glanced back at his landing party, Doctor McKenzie, BC, and two of his security officers, Stinson Matthews and Ashley Carmine.
McKenzie may have insisted on parting ways prior to his decision, but once he began forming the away team, he couldn’t shake off her enthusiasm with a stick. McKenzie brought a briefcase packed with scanning equipment, and she wore her specialized spectacles for more immediate observation. BC led the pack with a frontline scanner, a device capable of a number of functions, such as chemical and tactile analysis. There was a chance worth investigating that forms of radiation or volatile chemical leaks might lurk aboard this alien vessel. He also needed BC to identify lifeforms with the scanner if necessary.
Stinson was an expert on linguistics, from spoken languages to gestural signs, which made him a prime candidate. Ashley, the cyborg of the group, utilized implants that effectively rendered her an empath across species lines. Logan tried not to think about the future of mechanical implants, but the Terrace military had only begun trials. Cybernetics hadn’t quite become as mainstream as prosthetics, and the technology was in its infancy, only becoming prominent since colonization of mars.
“Well, we’re in,” Logan said. “Any signs of life yet?”
“I don’t know,” BC said, walking ahead of the group.
From the outside of the airlock, the entry hall continued down about ten meters to a T-intersection. Logan placed the gloved hand of his spacesuit against the multifaceted tapestry of the station walls. His fingers curved across the ridges from inside his suit. The others followed close behind as he headed toward BC, who appeared to have his interest fixated on some kind of reading.
“Talk to me BC,” Logan said. “What is it?”
BC paused. He turned around to face the crew. “The atmosphere’s breathable at least.” He glanced down at his scanner. “It’s not a lifeform per se, but I am picking up a sizable energy reading from deeper inside, about one kilometer from our current position.”
McKenzie sighed. “That’s barely scratching the surface. It’s too easy, Captain. This is obviously a diversion set forward by alien interest.”
Logan twisted off his helmet and clipped it to his waist. He reached down to pat the butt of his R-3250 bolt rifle. The gun weighed a poultry five kilograms but packed a wallop. As long as he was firing toward the inside, he shouldn’t have an issue using it if the need arose, but he doubted it would come to that.
Two possibilities circled around in his head and both left him with a sore taste in his mouth. First, that whatever lifeforms had once existed on this vessel had all vanished for reasons he might never know. Second, that there existed a form of life BC’s scanners couldn’t quantify in terms Terrace culture had come to understand. There were alternative explanations, but those pegged him as the most prominent.
“Doesn’t matter at this point,” Logan said, resuming his stare toward the end of the hall. “They haven’t done in our ship yet, so they’re either unaware of our presence or they’re observing us.”
“Captain, the former is impossible, and the latter leaves many more questions unanswered.”
“Agreed,” Logan replied, nodding toward her. “That said, we have little choice but to play their game for now.”