Disaster Station
Ninety years ago, a technological breakthrough was achieved in caves near indigenous lands in Texas, America. Miners went to work as they did every day, but during one of their expeditions, they found a new mineral: a rocky, energetic stone that emitted a peculiar electricity within its structure.
Scientists conducted several tests until a historic discovery emerged: this mineral released a form of pure energy that did not pollute the environment. It didn't take long for humanity to find a way to turn it into fuel.
That mineral was named "Terranova." In just a few years, the planet developed a novel form of electricity, characterized by its great durability and versatility. To give you an idea, one Terranova crystal is equivalent to a small power plant. It's insane!
Engineers and robotics experts built advanced and complex machines powered by Terranova as the perfect fuel. Robots, spaceships, trains—everything now ran on Terranova. Oil continued to be used, though in simpler ways, much like traditional electricity.
But humanity's greatest feat was finding intelligent life—multiple species. Although a war broke out with several alien races, humanity eventually preferred dialogue for mutual benefit, thus creating the "U.I.C." or "Universal Intergalactic Council."
This led to the creation of the ship "S.E.A.R.C.H.," a vessel tasked with navigating the galaxy in search of new minerals, conducting research, and discovering the unknown.
I recently had the honor of being here as a navigation intern... It's like a dream come true.
In the corners of the living quarters, one room stood out. In Room 4, amidst rock and heavy metal posters that contrasted with dark gray metallic walls, sat a young 20-year-old woman. On an ugly bed, the only pretty thing was a purple sheet. She was writing furiously on her laptop from a black swivel chair. Her blue eyes, shaded by a deep melancholy, scanned the screen with precision. Her deep skin had violet undertones, and her dark purple hair fell in high, curly pigtails, framed by rebellious strands and an irregular fringe that highlighted her septum piercing and a black buckled choker.
Her style fused punk, grunge, and indie: a black biker leather jacket with silver studs over a tight, dusty rose t-shirt with a cross-boned skull; light blue flared jeans cinched by a heart-shaped chain belt; and thick-soled white and green sneakers.
The young woman grabbed her curly pigtails with anxiety, feeling that what she was writing was terrible.
"Ugh! No! No! That last part sounds cheesy!" she muttered, self-criticizing as she reviewed the text. "Let’s see... 'It's like a dream come true.' That sounds so unprofessional! This reads more like an anecdote than a professional blog!" she expressed, burying her face in her hands.
She leaned back, thousands of thoughts flooding a psyche filled with the disappointment of a figure she admired.
"Mom would be so ashamed to see her daughter writing like a middle schooler! Ugh! I wrote better reports in college! Why can't I get this right?! Kya!" she shrieked, childishly kicking her legs up and down repeatedly.
But then, a sound loud enough to scare even a sloth erupted:
"EEKALYN NORTHMOON! YOU ARE REQUIRED IN THE NAVIGATION ROOM! RIGHT NOW! IT IS 11:30 AM! MOVE IT!"
Eeka literally jumped like a startled cat. That shout sounded like the roar of a moody dragon, sending shivers through her body. She collapsed face-first onto the floor as if ragdoll physics had suddenly been applied to her.
THUD!
Her face hit the steel floor, which, thanks to the janitor, was clean and shiny, though the impact was humiliating to say the least. Eeka pushed herself up with her hands, lifting her head with a pained expression.
"I’m coming in a heartbeat," she whispered in a faint voice as she scrambled up.
She couldn't afford to fail. After all, she had a self-imposed obligation to make her mother proud: the famous Nerata Northmoon, one of the U.I.C.'s best captains and a war heroine who had defeated enemy forces with her crew, earning several medals and the great honor of captaining the S.E.A.R.C.H.
As she stepped out the door, Eeka headed toward the bridge. It was no surprise she was sweating from anxiety; tremors ran through her body. Her tutor, the lead navigator, was about to teach her the basics.
Just outside the bridge, two guards stood watch with eagle-eyed focus, one on the left and one on the right. Like robots, their heads turned to track Eeka. Under their gaze, her internal nerves spiked.
Raising a trembling hand with a forced smile to hide the exorbitant unease threatening to spill from her gut, she stammered:
"Uh... Hi... Eeka Northmoon! You know, the Captain's daughter... Yeah!" Eeka articulated, her diction failing her, making her natural shyness clear.
The two guards said nothing, opening the door for her. Eeka rushed inside, finally meeting her instructor. Deep down, she was vibrating with curiosity and abyssal hope. This was her moment to prove her worth.
And there he was...
CRUNCH
CRUNCH
In the imposing main chair of the pilot center, surrounded by floating blue touch panels that responded with precision to every movement, sat the core of the command. Before her, the vast metallic control center displayed its complex structure while Terranova energy flowed through invisible conduits, illuminating everything with a dark blue glow that seemed alive.
Sitting in that chair was her instructor, Elven Sch'ohm.
Elven, a Lephron standing 1.85m tall with a serene expression, radiated mystery. His pale lavender skin was dusted with fine scales on his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. His vibrant orange eyes, with vertical slit pupils and pinkish eyelids, pierced through her with feline intensity. Long, pointed ears peeked through a messy mane of jet-black hair with rebellious tips, crowned by a bright pink lock curved over his forehead. He dressed with practical ruggedness: a high-collared dark blue jacket with perforated gray shoulder panels over earthy brown undergarments, navy blue pants, and black boots.
What was the great navigator doing? He held a long, circular container with the word "Ringles" in one hand. With his pale lavender fingers, he reached inside, pulled out a chip, and crunched it down his throat. Most unsettling was his facial expression—imperturbable and blank. His orange eyes stared into nothingness.
Eeka took a moment to process the visual. Without warning, Elven turned his head toward her, observing her as if analyzing a new specimen with a terrifyingly calm expression.
When he spoke, his voice was nasal—midway between high and low-pitched.
"Thou art the Humhimpance intern whom I am to train, non is it so?" Elven expressed monotonically and directly, without overthinking his words.
Having no response due to her withdrawal, she simply nodded.
"Sit here, by my chair. As thou art new, take care non to accident anything, Humhimpance," Elven replied frankly, placing the Ringles in a precise, comfortable corner. He made a vague gesture with his finger, signaling her to sit quickly.
Eeka moved like a flash, dropping into the chair and trying to look professional, though she failed immediately. She let out a quick sigh. "My name is Eeka Northm—"
SNAP!
Elven snapped his fingers loudly. He looked Eeka dead in the eye and replied in a clearly disinterested tone:
"That I already know, Humhimpance; thou art the fija of Nerata. I saw thy file; no presentation is menester. The only thing thou must know is that I am Elven, and naught else." He finished with a dry: "Thou art here to deprend, after all."
"I understand, Mr. Elven. Sorry," Eeka said, her cheeks turning red as she gripped her knees, swallowing hard.
Elven blinked slowly, processing the word "Mr." as if it were something illogical.
"I am thirty and three years of age; a youth I am, in truth. An ancient I am non, maguer five years more pass," Elven declared with professional calm, crossing his arms.
Sweat rolled down Eeka's forehead. She didn't know whether to question the accent or the age. She didn't want to sound rude.
"Well... but technically, since you're several years older than me and my superior, to me, you are a mister," Eeka replied nervously. "I mean! If you don't want me to call you that, it's fine! I was just trying to be polite..."
A brief silence followed, filled only by the hum of the ventilation. Elven blinked with terrifying delicacy.
"Intellectually and humanly, I shall give thee the reason; yet, in the Lephron way, physically in my twenty-fives I find myself, and chronologically in my thirty-threes," Elven manifested as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Better I show thee how all this worketh, instead of explaining alien biology," Elven affirmed impassively. His fingers navigated the control panels, pulling up maps and locations. "We are in the fourth galaxy, on intergalactic route number eight. This galaxy is one of the simplest there be, as thou shalt know if thou hast read the treatises of cosmography."
Feeling less anxious, Eeka decided to show off her knowledge. "I have! At Skystar University, they taught us about galaxies when I first enrolled," she replied with more confidence, touching the panel smoothly. "Based on the atmosphere and the space rocks scattered around... it's a galaxy similar to Earth, which is approximately Galaxy One."
"Intellectual, though there be more expedicious ways to discover what type of galaxy it be," Elven remarked, controlling the panels with extraordinary, routine precision. "If we be in the fourth galaxy, the swiftest way to know which lineage of galaxies we inhabit is to look at the shape of the planets and their design."
Elven expanded the panel to show a holographic visualization of a nearby planet, then formed another hologram of Earth for comparison.
"If thou lookest well, the planet of the galaxy where we are located presenteth traits akin to Planet Earth." Elven touched the panel, scanning the properties of both. "Earth is covered in seventy and one percent water, whereas this planet is seventy percent—a near identical figure. Yet that is non all: it possesseth oxygen at thirty-five percent, which, compared to Earth, letteth us know that the possible insects are two meters or more. And lastly, it hath nitrogen at seventy-eight percent."
"Wow! I hadn't considered that! Thank you for the lesson... sincerely!" Eeka confessed, fascinated. "I'd love to learn more! I want to be the best navigator possible!"
Elven blinked four times, looking at the panel and then at Eeka. "At least thou understandest the point, Humhimpance; I expected little, yet non nothing either."
Eeka remained confused. Elven kept calling her "Humhimpance," and God only knew what that meant.
"Excuse me, Instructor Elven, but I have a question..." Eeka said, as earnest as ever. "What is a Humhimpance?"
Elven’s eyes opened and closed four times. "Why, Humhimpance," he answered, as if it were obvious.
"I know it's said Humhimpance, but what does it mean?"
Elven replied simply: "It signifieth human and chimpanzee; it is non so difficult to understand if one applieth a bit of elemental etymology." He calmly reached for his Ringles again.
CRUNCH
CRUNCH
Eeka blinked, trying to understand why such an intelligent navigator used such an eccentric term. "Oh... why not use Homo sapiens?"
"Certain, Homo sapiens soundeth super complicated and exotic for beings as advanced as I and thousands of species from other galaxies," Elven replied with absolute placidity, crushing another chip.
Eeka swallowed hard. "Was that sarcasm or a mockery?"
Elven blinked once more. "The third," he stated stoically.
"What do you mean 'the third'?"
Elven answered frankly: "The third: analyze the perimeter while I take an eight-hour nap, for I am weary."
With that, Elven rose from his chair and headed toward his quarters, leaving Eeka alone on the bridge.
Eeka sighed, letting her head fall onto the steel of the control center. She would do whatever it took to make her mother proud, even if it meant working with an alien who had an accent as strange as his way of saying things. The road ahead would be a disaster—in a good way, or a bad way. Well, probably both.
