Written for the 'Something' contest hosted in collaboration with the Science Fiction profile. 

By mserrur

"Faster," Captain Kiel shouted as his spacecraft hurtled toward the asteroid field.

"Can't push her any faster, sir," replied Corporal Hutchinson. "Any increase is sure to burn out the propulsion system."

"Next time I need an anniversary present for my wife," Kiel barked, "I'll be sure to ask for your opinion, Corporal, but for now, how about you listen to your ranking officer and follow the god damn order."

Corporal Hutchinson glanced over at First Officer Dirks. His copilot shrugged as they both stared out the cockpit at their impending fate. The nine other crewmembers sat silently. For the past eighteen months they had followed Kiel around the solar system, and they weren't going to abandon him now.

"Fine," Hutchinson grunted. "Emptying fuel cells."

The propulsion engines kicked into gear and the craft jettisoned full-speed towards the asteroid field directly in front of them.

"Dirks!" Kiel shouted. "Type in those coordinates, NOW!"

"Coordinates?" Hutchinson muttered to himself. "What coordinates..."

But Dirks sprang into action, slipping open the control pad and manually inputting a long line of code. Finally, he keyed in 236.5 sector 57c. He clicked a green flashing button on the console.

The change happened abruptly. The spacecraft altered its course; instead of speeding towards the asteroid field, the nose tilted upwards and the craft rapidly began a vertical ascent. A deafening sound rattled through the shuttle.

"Buckle your seat belts, gentlemen!" Captain Kiel shouted to his crew. Corporal Hutchinson found himself thrown from his seat, but Dirks grabbed him by the shoulder before he rolled back through the shuttle.

Although now rushing upwards, the spacecraft still hadn't cleared the asteroid field.

Kiel yelled. "Keep her climbing, Dirks. We're not out of this mess just yet."

"Understood, cap. I'm juicing the remaining battery supply," Dirks shouted back.

Through the curved glass of the cockpit, Hutchinson could see the heavy chunks of stone floating weightlessly in front him. They were inching closer.

Buck, another crew member, nudged his buddy. "Hey, Chucky. How you feeling?"

"Like shit," Chucky said back. "I don't know what Cap was thinking with this one. Could've got us all popped."

"Yep," Buck nodded.

"I don't know about you," Chucky said, "but I was serious when I signed up for twelve months—not eighteen months, not twenty-four months, not the rest of my damn life. I'm sure my wife is worrying herself to death."

"Same, brother. Only being able to communicate at star stations once a month isn't gonna cut it."

Chucky bit down on his knuckle. "And I can only imagine what Claire is doing back on Earth."

Concern swept over Buck's face. "You really think she'd do that to you?"

"How the hell should I know?" he grumbled. "She's probably thinking I'm out here doing the same. You think your girl is that loyal?"

But before Buck could answer, a loud BANG rocked the ship and thrashed everyone around in their seats. The gears sputtered and kicked, and a terrible grinding sound could be heard towards the back of the shuttle.

And there goes the engine, Colonel Hutchinson thought to himself. That's what happens when you push a spacecraft that hasn't been serviced in two-million miles.

"Dirks! Hutchinson!" Captain Kiel called out. "What the hell happened?"

Dirks swiveled his head around. "Sounded like the boosters, sir. They must've overheated."

"That your analysis, too, Corporal?"

"I'd have to agree with First Officer Dirks, sir."

"Christ," Captain Kiel muttered to himself. "What about power?"

Corporal Hutchinson stood from his seat. "We still have power, sir. Data handling systems, control, guidance, and navigation all seem to be in working order." He began twisting and tapping at the buttons and nobs on the electronic flight display. "Seems like the solar panels are still converting sunlight into energy."

"That mean telecoms are still online?" Captain Kiel asked.

"Yes."

"And antennas?" He looked at Dirks.

"Affirmative, sir."

The captain stood quietly, staring out the concave plate of glass that separated him and his men from the quiet emptiness of space. The stars glowed, halos of burning gas surrounding them like the twinkling eyes of angels. Although his men didn't recognize it, Kiel yearned to be back on his home planet.

"Zeke!"

The sound of a belt unclicking echoed through the otherwise silent spacecraft. A young man, maybe half the age of the others on board, trotted nervously forward and stood at attention in front of his captain.

"At ease, cadet," Captain Kiel said with a wave of his hand. "As you can see, we're floating through this endless abyss with no fuel and minimal resources. I need you to draft and transmit a message through our Deep Space network."

"Ye—yes, sir!" he said with as much confidence as he could muster.

"Tell them our coordinates, and that we're out of fuel and need assistance."

"Yes, sir!" He remained chin up and rigid in front of his captain. A few seconds passed.

"What are you waiting for?" Kiel scream. "Go, damn it!"

The young man scurried off to the telecom substation and began coding a message. Captain Kiel looked back at his men. He could see the utter exhaustion and desperation etched into their drawn-out faces. Hell, he couldn't blame them.

He stepped down from his commander's chair and addressed the crew. "Listen," he began, "we've worked hard the past year-and-a-half, and I promise you—as I promised you when we started this expedition—that we will return to our home planet with enough riches to last a life time."

Captain Kiel noticed some of the men had already lost interest in his speech, but he continued anyway. "We've got about seven kilos of space glass down there in the hull. I don't need to tell you how much that's worth; I know you all check the spot price whenever you have the chance."

A few snickers.

"We will be kings; our lives will be more magnificent than anything your stunted fantasies can even imagine. Your families will—"

"Sir!" Zeke interrupted. "The transmission...it bounced back."

Frustrated, Kiel turned around. "Bounced back? Off what?"

The young cadet cleared his throat. "Seems like another ship, sir."

"How can that be?" the captain asked.

"It's true." Corporal Hutchinson stood up. "On the radar. It's another spacecraft. Hard to determine the size, but it seems to be stationary."

"You mean it's just drifting out there?"

"Yes, sir. It appears so."

"You won't believe this," Zeke called out. "It looks like they're sending us a message of their own!"

All the men began muttering to themselves.

"Well," Captain Kiel roared, his voice carrying above all the others, "What did they say?"

"It's impossible to translate," Zeke replied.

Captain Kiel turned to Dirks and Hutchinson. "We got enough fuel to get over there?"

"Just barely," Dirks said.

Hutchinson nodded in agreement.

"Do it," Kiel said. "Zeke, send a transmission directly to the craft. Tell them we're boarding."

It clearly wasn't a battle cruiser. No blasters were welded to the hull, and the bulbous spacecraft looked cumbersome, but as they approached, the immensity of the opposing vessel gave Captain Kiel a twinge in his stomach. No defense shields either, he wondered to himself. Could they be floating into a trap?

"Buck, Chucky," the captain commanded, "prepare the transport capsules. We'll dock her here and shuttle over."

They glanced at each other and nodded begrudgingly. The rest of the men unbuckled their safety belts and stood up, stretching and twisting their stiff joints after what felt like days of sitting. They all moseyed over to the armory cabinet and grabbed their blaster pistols, hooking them to the holster along their belts.

Corporal Hutchinson stared out at the enormous spacecraft. It dwarfed their ship, and he couldn't help but feel like a wood tick hanging on to the fur of a Labrador. He sighed and followed his fellow crewmembers, snatching his own personal blaster and helmet. He looked over at Kiel. For years, the man had been waiting for a scenario such as this, an opportunity to cement his legacy as a fearless leader, shrewd diplomat, and anything else he'd think of to tell the reporters when they returned home.

"Anything back from them, Zeke?" the captain asked.

"Let me check," he started fiddling with the transmitter, "it looks like they received the transmission but—hold on—something is coming through...Good Gravy!" Zeke couldn't hide his excitement. "They responded! And, you won't believe this, but they're communicating in our language!"

"Well, what's it say?" Captain Kiel asked.

"It says...Welcome."

"Capsules ready." Buck called out, his voice echoing above the hoopla.

All the men shuffled over to the ejector bay and piled in four to a capsule. In unison they closed the hatches and pushed their vessels into space. The capsules drifted along quietly, floating through the eternal emptiness that was the universe.

The departure went smoothly, and in a matter of minutes they had reached the opposing craft. The capsules slid into the landing dock. Through the small porthole, Captain Kiel observed his surroundings. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief. From the outside it appeared to be a typical space ship, but once inside, he soon realized that he and his crew had stumbled across something extraordinary.

He popped open the hatch and watched as the other capsules followed suit. In front of him stood a seemingly-endless ecosystem, complete with lush fields of grass, tall trees, emerald pastures, and quaint rippling brooks. He heard a chirp. Could it be? He hadn't seen a real bird in months.

The men piled out of their capsules. They all took in their surroundings, and for a moment, this once boisterous bunch stood amongst each other in quiet awe.

"Remarkable," Corporal Hutchinson murmured under his breath.

The other men all began nudging one another, pointing to different animals, plants, and flowers. Some were recognizable, while others were odd and foreign. A three-legged amphibious creature, scaly and green and looking like a cross between a frog and a kangaroo, hopped past them, pausing to unroll its long pink tongue and slurp form a nearby stream. The vegetation glowed in a magnificent spectrum of colors. The ground sat firm beneath Captain Kiel's feet. He finally felt at home.

"Greetings," a voice boomed.

The men all turned their attention to a creature effortlessly gliding toward them. It wore a white, flowy robe, and had long spindly finger-like appendages attached to a pair of gangly tentacles. Now only a few yards away, their hosts' true proportions were realized—three times the size and height of Captain Kiel.

The captain stepped forward. "Hello. My name is Kiel. I am in charge of this peaceful expedition." He motioned to his crew. "We are from planet Earth. Thank you for replying to our message."

The elegant creature observed the men carefully, then raised its arms. "Visitors are my greatest joy."

"You speak our language?" Kiel asked.

"I speak many languages," it replied. "Now, what does your expedition seek?"

Captain Kiel hesitated. "Purely exploratory," he answered.

"Excellent! There is much for you to explore here. My name is Dorn. I am emperor and caretaker of this world."

Corporal Hutchinson stepped forward. "Thank you for your hospitality, Emperor Dorn. We are honored to be in your presence." He glanced over at the captain. "We also come in search of aid. To avoid an asteroid field, we were forced to use our entire fuel reserves."

Dorn held up one of its massive tentacles. "Speak no more! My offspring will provide you with all the supplies you need."

Kiel glared at his corporal, but Hutchinson continued to address the emperor. "That is most kind of you. We will gladly offer anything we possess in trade."

"That is not necessary. All I ask is that you stay with us for a festive meal to celebrate the meeting of our two miraculous cultures."

Captain Kiel nudged his corporal out of the way. "It would be our pleasure, Emperor."

"Excellent." Emperor Dorn lifted into the air and hovered above the ground. "Now, please follow me."

The men trailed Dorn as he led them through fields of endless green. The grounds were designed with precision, intention, and beauty, and the men found themselves gawking at the exquisite natural features. Quaint one-story homes were scattered through the plains and seemingly-endless countryside.

The party crested a steeply sloping ridge and gazed down at the fields below. Buck elbowed Chucky in the side and gestured with his head.

Chucky looked down and felt his heart skip. The creatures languidly laboring below were some of the most dazzling he had ever seen. Unlike Dorn, who was a bit reptilian, these beings were full of grace, with statuesque forms, tall soaring necks and long flowy golden-blonde hair that sparkled in the artificial sunlight.

"My god," Chucky said to no one in particular. His mouth was still gaping when Buck slapped him on the shoulder.

"I think they're going to be our dinner guests," Buck said, grinning.

The men followed Dorn along a perfectly-weathered path towards an enormous pavilion about the size of a circus tent. A banquet-style table capable of fitting more than a hundred guests sat in the center of the pavilion. A setting was laid out for each of the twelve men, with an identical twelve additional sat directly across from them.

Dorn floated to the head of the table.

"Please, sit."

The men sat.

"I have arranged for a few of my offspring to accompany us this evening." Dorn gestured forward with his arm, and magically, a row of twelve angelic creatures with flowy blonde hair emerged from what seemed like thin air. They glided in single file and took their seats across from Captain Kiel and his crew.

Up close, the captain could see their skin shifting colors, like the way oil moves in a puddle. Dorn caught his gaze.

"It's their mood that determines the color," he said to Kiel. "The skin will glow bright green if they are fond of you."

Captain Kiel stared at the being in front of him. He noticed the skin start to swirl and slowly shift from a muddy brown to a stormy blue.

"I sense my offspring are warming up to your men," Dorn said.

"Your offspring are lovely, but unfortunately, we're no group of bachelors.

Dorn's ethereal lips contorted into a smile, "Speak for yourself."

The captain looked around and was shocked to find his crew not only communicating, but conversing with this foreign species. The men barely knew how to talk to each other! What could they possibly be discussing with them—the weather? Even Zeke and Dirks had taken a liking to their new companions. And for the first in months, Corporal Hutchinson cracked a smile.

Then the first course arrived.

Platters brimming with pomegranates, jams, nuts, cheeses, cured meats, and pickles of all varieties appeared in front of them. The men wasted no time, and like a bunch of starved dogs, started snatching at whichever platter sat closer. As they ravenously devoured the food,

Captain Kiel noticed their dinner guests changing color, now rather quickly.
The second course came out: baby lamb chops, suckling pig, duck, sausages, breads, pies, and all the fixins. The men ate more. Their fellow diners just looked on approvingly, their skin still swirling.

"Are you not hungry," Captain Kiel asked his host.

"I have no appetite," the Dorn replied. "I'm getting great pleasure seeing my offspring so...content."

Kiel turned to his left. He couldn't believe his eyes. Hutchinson had stopped eating and was now on the other side of the table, walking arm-and-arm with one of Dorn's offspring.

"Hutchinson!" Kiel shouted from the table. "Hutchinson, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

But it was too late. He had already disappeared beyond the hillside. And by the time the Kiel turned back around, the rest of his crew had risen from the table and left with their dinner guests. He ran after them, screaming, "Where do you think you're all going? This is mutiny!"

"I'm afraid so," Dorn said, as he soared into the air. "But all of your men will serve a special purpose, I assure you."

"What is this place?"

"That doesn't concern you," Dorn said, now nearly out of earshot. "Your concern should be making my offspring happy. Because, by the look of it, I'd say your dinner guest is looking a little blue."