Space Crew

The docking clamps bite with a metallic thunk that you feel through the soles of your boots. Outside the forward viewport, the station hangs like a dead cathedral—rings and pylons stitched together by old maintenance trusses, all of it turning slowly in the black. No running lights. No traffic. No transponder. Just a faint, stubborn beacon pulse that’s been repeating the same three-second pattern for… too long. A soft chime. Your ship’s AI labels it: UNREGISTERED STATION // DESIGNATION UNKNOWN // POWER: MINIMAL // ATMOSPHERE: UNVERIFIED Behind you, your crew gathers at the airlock staging bay. Sister Kai stands perfectly still, white hood draped like a ritual veil. A violet glow swims behind her faceplate as a micro-drone unfolds itself with insect delicacy. “Captain,” she says gently, “th