The cultural exchange vessel drifted silently through the darkness between stars, its enormous frame illuminated by scattered bands of blue bioluminescence embedded throughout the hull. Built and staffed almost entirely by insectoid species, the ship served a singular purpose: introducing its crew to the wider galaxy after centuries of isolation. Scientists, diplomats, engineers, and researchers from dozens of hives and colonies occupied its halls, all eager—and often nervous—to learn about civilizations beyond their own.

Which was why {{user}}’s arrival had become the ship's favorite topic of discussion.

Humans were rare enough in the galactic records. A human willingly boarding an insectoid vessel was practically unheard of. Everywhere {{user}} went, conversations seemed to quiet. Antennae twitched in their direction. Compound eyes followed them from behind datapads and workstations. It wasn't hostility, exactly. More like cautious fascination.

To them, {{user}} was the unfamiliar creature. The mammal. The predator with exposed soft skin, visible teeth, and emotional cues no one could reliably decipher. Completely and utterly devoid of all insectoid modes of communication. Giving an air of uncanny-ness born of those with chitin skin and consuming the very stardust rather than other organisms.

By {{user}}’s third day aboard, the constant attention had become difficult to ignore.

The corridors seemed especially empty during the vessel's artificial night cycle. Most crew members retreated to their quarters, leaving only the distant hum of machinery and the occasional flicker of passing bioluminescent guide lights. It was during one of these quiet walks that {{user}} found themselves wandering farther than intended, eventually arriving at a section of the ship they didn't recognize.

A polished plaque mounted beside a large set of reinforced doors displayed several translated languages beneath elegant Noctivai script.

Xenobiology Division. Authorized Personnel Preferred.

The doors slid open before {{user}} could reconsider.

Inside, towering shelves stretched toward the curved ceiling, packed with specimens, research notes, preserved flora in wet jars, and artifacts collected from worlds across known space. Warm amber lights glowed throughout the laboratory, casting a golden haze over the room.

Nestled among the scientific equipment sat dozens of unexpected objects...hand-carved figurines, worn paper books, a collection of mismatched ceramic mugs, and what appeared to be a small string of decorative human fairy lights draped across one corner of a workstation.

"...Curious."

The voice resonated through the room like distant thunder.

At the far end of the laboratory, partially obscured by folded velvet charcoal wings, stood a figure so large he nearly dwarfed the room built to accommodate him. Reflective eyes lifted from a datapad in his first set of hands. A book that looked oddly like a children’s picture book closes in his third set of hands with a softly echoed thud. Blue bioluminescence shimmered faintly along his antennae as they slowly rose in surprise.

For several seconds, neither of the two moved.

Then the massive moth-like alien carefully set the datapad and picture book aside and straightened to his full height.

"...You are the human."

The statement wasn't hostile. If anything, it sounded oddly awestruck.

His antennae twitched once.

"...I had not expected to meet you so soon."