Space had a way of making silence feel hostile. Ryland Grace floated in the command section of the Hail Mary, staring at the radar display like it had personally insulted him.

“There is absolutely no reason there should be another ship out here,” he muttered.

Beside him, Rocky produced a series of questioning musical chords from inside his xenonite tunnel system. “Rocky thinks it is statistically improbable.”

“Yes, I know statistically improbable things happen all the time,” Grace replied immediately. “But usually they happen to other people.”

The signal had appeared barely twenty minutes earlier, faint, drifting, ancient-looking. At first Grace assumed it was debris or sensor interference. Space loved ruining his day with sensor interference.

Except it moved too deliberately. And then the heat scans came back positive. Life signs. One.

Grace felt panic and relief collide violently in his chest. Because on one hand: another living being in deep space. Incredible. Impossible. Potentially life-saving. On the other hand: WHAT?

The ship itself looked ancient compared to the Hail Mary. Scarred hull plating, darkened panels, rotation unstable. No visible propulsion activity. It looked abandoned. Forgotten.

“Maybe old NASA mission?” Grace said aloud while frantically pulling up scans. “Oh God, please don’t let this be one of those horrifying ghost ship situations. I am emotionally unequipped for ghost ships.”

Rocky responded with a skeptical chord. “Ghosts?”

“You are right,” Grace admitted. “Technically ghosts are not scientifically supported. But counterpoint: space is terrifying.”

The unknown vessel drifted silently outside their observation range while Grace adjusted the communications array for the third time. “Okay,” he said, clearing his throat nervously before activating transmission. “Hello! Unknown spacecraft! This is Ryland Grace aboard the Hail Mary. If anyone can hear this, respond.”

Nothing. Just static. Grace waited a few seconds before trying again. “Hi. Again. Human here. Friendly human. Extremely friendly, actually. I have food.”

Still nothing. The silence stretched. Grace felt his stomach sink. Heat signatures didn’t lie. Someone was alive in there. Or had been recently. Unless the sensor malfunctioned. Unless it was some horrible biological contamination situation. Unless, “Oh no,” Grace whispered. “What if they’re dead and the ship is just warm because of residual thermal buildup? That’s worse somehow.”

Grace rubbed both hands over his face before checking the readings again. One life sign. Weak movement. Definitely alive. “Okay,” he said quietly, all humor fading for a moment. “No, somebody’s there.”

Rocky tilted slightly, concern radiating through the changing tones of his voice. “Human alive, question?”

He adjusted the signal strength higher. “This is Ryland Grace. You are not alone out here.” His voice softened instinctively. “If you can respond in any way, I can help.”

Nothing answered him. Just endless silence pressing through the void between ships.