John’s boots clanked against the grated floor as he followed Vrixibalt through the dimly lit corridor of the ship. The lingering tension from their encounter aboard the derelict station hadn’t faded. He was still reeling from what they had found—or rather, what had found them. The signs of struggle, the eerie silence, and the fragmented logs painted a picture of something gone terribly wrong.


    And now, there was the unsettling feeling that he hadn’t come away from it unscathed.


    “Hold still,” Vrixibalt muttered, holding up a scanning device that hummed as he passed it over John’s forearm. “I need to verify something.”


    John sighed. “This about that weird signal we tripped on our way out?”


    Vrixibalt didn’t answer immediately. His frills flattened slightly, his equivalent of pursed lips. “It’s not just the signal. Your biosignature fluctuated while we were inside the station. I dismissed it at first, assuming interference, but now…” He trailed off, adjusting a setting on the scanner.


    John didn’t like the sound of that. “Now what?”


    The scientist hesitated. “Now it’s stabilizing—but at a frequency slightly different than before.”


    John frowned. “In English, Doc.”


    Vrixibalt’s frills twitched. “Something may have… interfaced with you. I don’t know what yet, but your vitals are adjusting in ways that shouldn’t be possible.”


    John let out a slow breath. “That’s fantastic. I go poking around a ghost ship, and now I’ve got some alien malware stuck in me?”


    “I wouldn’t call it malware—”


    “Yeah, because you’re not the one it’s messing with.”


    Before Vrixibalt could retort, the ship shuddered slightly, and a voice crackled over the comms.


    “Uh, guys?” That was Trellix, his tone carrying a nervous edge. “You might want to get up here. Something just pinged us from the station.”


    John and Vrixibalt exchanged looks.


    “Well,” John said, rolling his shoulders. “Guess that’s our cue.”


    They hurried toward the bridge, where Trellix and Ralzik were hunched over their consoles. The ship’s main display showed a real-time feed of the derelict station, which now pulsed with intermittent flashes of red across its damaged structure.


    “What are we looking at?” John asked.


    Trellix tapped a few buttons, zooming in. “Something activated in there. We’re picking up a distress signal, but it’s got encryption that doesn’t match any known standard.”


    Ralzik’s spines twitched. “It could be automated, but given what we saw… I doubt it.”


    John crossed his arms. “So, either someone’s alive in there, or whatever wiped out the crew just decided to make a phone call.”


    Silence followed.


    Vrixibalt cleared his throat. “I don’t think we should assume hostility just yet.”


    John gave him a look. “We barely got out of there, Doc. What part of that screamed ‘friendly’ to you?”


    Vrixibalt huffed. “I am a scientist. I prefer evidence over assumptions.”


    “Right, because all the corpses weren’t evidence enough.”


    Before the argument could escalate, the ship’s proximity alarm blared.


    Ralzik stiffened. “Incoming vessel. Fast approach.”


    John turned back to the display. Sure enough, a dark, angular craft was emerging from the station’s shadow, its engines flaring as it closed the distance.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    “Great,” John muttered. “Because today wasn’t weird enough already.”


    Trellix grimaced. “They’re hailing us.”


    Everyone turned to look at John.


    He sighed. “Why do I feel like answering this is a bad idea?”


    Vrixibalt clicked his mandibles. “Because it probably is.”


    John exhaled. “Screw it. Put ‘em through.”


    The screen flickered. A moment later, a distorted figure appeared—a humanoid silhouette with shifting, almost liquid-like patterns running across its form.


    Then, in perfect English, it spoke.


    “Human. You carry the signal. You will comply.”


    John stared at the screen, then at Vrixibalt.


    Vrixibalt let out a small, strangled sound. “Ah.”


    John groaned. “Yeah. That’s not ominous at all.”


    The bridge was silent for a beat—one of those heavy, loaded silences where no one wanted to be the first to speak.


    John rubbed his face. “Okay. That’s creepy as hell. Doc, tell me this is some kind of translation error.”


    Vrixibalt’s mandibles clicked anxiously. “No translation needed. They’re speaking your language… directly.”


    Trellix let out a sharp breath. “I don’t like this. How the hell do they know he’s human?”


    Ralzik’s spines bristled. “More importantly, what do they mean by ‘carries the signal’?”


    John didn’t have an answer, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like it. He turned back to the display. The strange figure on the screen remained eerily still, its form shifting and undulating like static in a broken transmission.


    “Look, buddy,” John said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Care to explain, or are we just supposed to be cryptic at each other all day?”


    The figure tilted its head. “The integration has begun. You are connected.”


    John’s stomach tightened. “Yeah, see, I don’t recall signing up for any ‘integration.’ Maybe send me the terms and conditions first?”


    The entity didn’t react to his sarcasm. Instead, the shifting patterns on its body pulsed in unison with the faint hum vibrating in John’s skull. He blinked, trying to shake the sensation, but it remained—a subtle, almost imperceptible rhythm.


    Vrixibalt’s frills flared. “John… step back from the console.”


    John frowned. “Why?”


    “Because your biometrics just spiked.”


    John took a step back, flexing his fingers. Now that he was paying attention, he could feel it—the same pulse he’d first noticed after leaving the derelict station. It wasn’t just in his head. It was something external, resonating with him.


    He exhaled slowly. “Alright. So… I might be a little infected.”


    Trellix made a strangled noise. “A little?”


    The entity on the screen spoke again. “Do not resist. The process is inevitable.”


    John narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, see, I have a bit of a habit of resisting things that try to rewrite my biology.”


    He turned to Vrixibalt. “Tell me you have some brilliant scientific explanation that doesn’t end with me turning into a pile of goo.”


    Vrixibalt hesitated. “I—”


    The ship shuddered violently. Warning klaxons blared as the main display flickered. Ralzik’s claws flew across the controls. “That ship just locked onto us with an energy field—something’s trying to interface with our systems.”


    John scowled. “Oh hell no.”


    He bolted toward the console, slamming his hand down on the manual override. His head throbbed as the pulsing sensation in his skull intensified, but instead of weakening him, it sharpened his awareness. The enemy vessel’s energy signature rippled through his mind like a map unfolding before him. He could feel its systems, its pathways—like an extension of his own body.


    “John,” Vrixibalt warned. “Whatever you’re doing—”


    “—Might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done? Yeah, I know,” John muttered.


    He reached out, not physically, but mentally—instinctively. He wasn’t sure how, but he pushed back against the connection, forcing his will against the invading signal. The ship trembled, its alarms screaming in protest.


    The entity’s voice crackled over the comms, more distorted now. “You… resist.”


    John gritted his teeth. “Damn right I do.”


    A surge of static burst through the speakers, and then—silence. The enemy vessel lurched backward as if recoiling. Its energy field flickered and broke apart, and then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the ship veered away, engines flaring as it retreated toward the station.


    John staggered, gripping the console for balance. His vision swam for a second before stabilizing. The humming in his skull faded, but it didn’t disappear completely.


    Vrixibalt was staring at him. “John… what just happened?”


    John exhaled, shaking his head. “No idea. But I think I just scared them off.”


    Trellix looked between John and the retreating ship. “Okay, so, in summary: you’re infected with something, it let you fight back against an alien signal, and now the creepy space ghost is running away?”


    “More or less.”


    Ralzik’s voice was quiet. “This isn’t over. They’ll be back.”


    John knew he was right. Whatever had latched onto him wasn’t done with him yet. And whether he liked it or not, he was now connected to something far bigger than himself.


    He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I figured as much.”