HMOFA, Moth/Alien, Sci-fi, Questionable Faceless Overlords, isolation Terry thinks his work orders have been corrupted because there is no finish time, but that changes when he gets to his target destination. ---------------------- Another day, with the same old endless expanse surrounding him beyond the ships hull, hidden behind a dozen cameras that feed into viewing screens. Terry sat himself down at the fully enclosed pilots chair of his light cargo freighter, sipping at scalding hot synthetic coffee. Terry is a human, average height and build, with average grads in his education. He'd picked up the job of a Deep Run Cargo Pilot right out of college, and the job was to transport cargo to areas in the galaxy that weren't so close to the trade hubs. It meant long stretches of time with little contact with another person, human or otherwise, and most of his deliveries were contactless to ensure no cross contamination of interspecies diseases. His current job was mostly no different, except for the duration to distance ratio. Normally it'd be three to seven days travel, overnight for resupply, then same time again for the return trip. Currently, he had no time allocation for a return trip, and his resupply time had been marked as indefinite. Terry hoped the com-relay at the LGPS point would let him get some update to what was clearly a glitched delivery assignment. "Good morning Terry, how have you been?" One of the primary screens had automatically turned on to show the blank face of Mr GT, the guy who had somehow gotten nearly every major business and corporation under his umbrella, Fourth Channel. "Ha-ha, don't I know it sport. This pre-recorded message was set to show when you were close to the destination of your job." Mr GT loves his pre-recorded messages. Means no one can interrupt his bullshit. Terry smiles at himself. "I'm sure by now you're noticed that your job has no defined end date, well that was not a mistake." Say what? "That's right, you've been volunteered!" How can someone without any discernible facial features have such a smug punchable face. Maybe he was just a Relynxi in disguise? Terry crumples his empty coffee cup and drops it into the recycling chute, leaning forward to hear what he's had no say in. "At the LGPS point you're traveling to is a vessel of a species the Fourth Chanel hasn't embraced yet. We've selected you to be the human ambassador to this race. You're to spend as much time as we deem necessary to acclimate to each other." As Mr GT speaks, Terry inputs commands to see the various camera feeds around the ship. To the front of a ship he could see a strange, sleek mass. It could almost be described as some sort of stretched out beetle with dozens of small oval bumps across the surface. "We chose you due to your service record, your species, and proximity." Wait, so some other shmuck could have got this job if he'd just been somewhere else? "You'll be docking shortly, so I'll leave you to get acquainted with your new companion." With that the screen with Mr GT goes blank, then switches to various system readouts. Terry stands and figures for the moment he'll play the good guinea pig. Before docking for any job, it was down to the pilot to check all systems on his freighter. Life support, Artifical Gravity, Gyroscopic control, etc. All had to be checked, in case repairs were needed. Due to the freighters being built to last, it was rare one needed to be docked for anything other than a delivery. Only a few of the thousand strong fleet had ever been decommissioned, and that was because of a series of space pirate raids. Fourth Channel dealt with the pirates fairly quickly, and since then their fleet has never been tampered with. "PILOT REQUIRED ON BRIDGE IN FIVE MINUTES. FINISH PRE-DOCKING CHECKS." The automated system sounded through the ship, finding Terry in his crew quarters finishing a protein mush breakfast with recycled water. He made a mental note that the tanks probably needed either cleaning or refreshing as the water was showing signs of over recycling. Returning to the pilot seat of the "bridge," Terry ran through the motions for docking, with a few changes to account for the airlocks being aligned. He experienced a moment of vertigo, which was concerning is it meant the Arti-grav system had been deactivated. A screen to his right flickers showing Mr GT. "Don't worry, that's just us. Part of your acclimation for now will require zero-G, mainly a requirement for the health of the other participant. You'll be locked out of Arti-Grav control for the time being. Don't want you to break something now do we?" The freighter shudders as magnetic docking systems set to work, a thousand gears, servos and clamps working to secure the two vessels together and pressurized. "You can leave the bridge now. You'll want to tidy yourself up to make a good first impression on your new companion." Somehow winking without a face, the video of Mr GT closes. "Well, guess I better get ready" Terry says to no one in particular. It takes a moment for his Zero-G training to kick in, and he's thankful for the size of the corridors around the ship and the amount of handholds he can reach. Back in his quarters, he uses the Vacuu-Trimmer to clean up the beard that he'd allowed to grow. it didn't take long to be clean shaven, though he left a small moustache and goatee combo as it didn't feel right to go completely baby faced. He didn't need to do anything with his hair as it was basic practice to keep that trimmed. After another ten minutes, he is leaving his quarters in a clean engineers' orange jumpsuit with his name is navy blue writing on his chest. Once he arrived at the airlock, he was surprised to see a screen flicker to Mr GT again. Terry wondered just how many pre-recorded messages were buried in the Job packet on the system. "Looking good their sport, remember to make a great impression!" Another short and snappy message, and the faceless man is gone. Terry floats at the airlock door, feeling nervous about meeting a new alien species for the first time. He felt honoured, but worried, as it meant there was no guides on ways not to offend the alien. He steels his nerves, and hits the unlock button on the panel, noticing that the door from the alien side was already open. The airlock opens, a small cloud of dust drifting into his ship from it, quickly becoming sucked into the ventilation system for filtration. It was obvious where the dust had come from, as before Terry as an insectoid alien, with mottled grey fur covering her torso and upper thighs, and darker grey chitin covering her arms and legs below the knees. Despite being a completely alien species to him, one thing was clear, and that was her gender. Her figure was a slim hourglass shape, and being so long away from people and women in general, Terry couldn't help but stare and mouth a silent "Woah." As he takes in her appearance, he can tell she is doing the same, finally looking up to her head. She as two large compound eyes of the deepest black naturally possible, a pair of antennae sprout up where a nose would be on a person, and her mouth is covered by a series of mandibles. Wait, so some other shmuck could have got this job if he'd just been somewhere else? Screw those guys, you're getting paid to get "acquainted" with what gorgeous woman. Who cares if she is an alien? for the first time, Terry felt thankful for Mr GT. ---------------------- Raising a hand for a shy wave, Terry couldn't help staring at the Moth-Alien in front of him. She was hovering about two meters in front of him, with her wings spreads out and twitching to kept still. Tilting her head in the universal sign of confusion, she waves one of her four hands at him. "Hey, I'm Terry.." He calmly introduced himself, reaching forward for a handshake. The Moth-Alien tiled her head to the other side, the focus of her large compound eyes noticeably staying on the outstretched palm. "May I, know your name?" He slowly moves his hand from an open palm to a soft pointing finger. The Moth-Alien tilts her head upright and bows it. "Saras" She responds stiffly, pointing to herself. "I hope we can become close friends through all this." With that and a quick flutter, she is moving away from the airlock, inadvertently giving Terry a good look at her back and rear. Between her wings was a number of chitin plates stretching from the base of her neck, to where the coccyx of a human would be. No insectoid abdomen to be seen. "So, uhm, may I board your ship?" Terry moved to the Alien ship side of the airlock, holding himself steady at the edge of the opening. "You may" Saras replied. "To the advice of your 'Mr Geee Teee' friend, I've locked off certain parts of my ship. It makes sense for your safety, but know that I did it begrudgingly. I'd prefer to stay in full control of what is still essentially my home." As Terry drifted into the dusty alien vessel, a thought crossed his mind. "Wait, how can you speak English? I was under the impression this was first in person contact between our races?" Terry slowly drifted along the corridor of the vessel. "Your friend sent schematics for a small translator." She turns around, and parts some of the fluff around her neck, revealing a small device. "Thankfully your language is easy to understand when spoken, but I cannot physically speak it without assistance. This translator apparently helps with that, but your friend never explained how." "Well, ain't that nice of him" Terry half-mutters to himself, admiring the flush plating of the corridors, trying not to let his eyes wander to the naked woman in front of him. The corridor opens up into what seems to be some sort of lounge area. There is a large futon set against a wall, some large devices with light spattering of what Terry assumed to be food pastes. Across from the futon was a 3D display of the surrounding space, allowing Terry a better look at the external design of the alien ship he was currently aboard. There was floating text all around the display, but he couldn't decipher anything. "Of all the races Fourth Channel has embraced, I must admit I haven't heard of or seen a ship designed like yours." He tried to sit near the 3D display, looking over the model of his hosts' ship. "What can you tell me about it? Or maybe tell em about your people?" Terry jumps a little as he hears Saras sigh loudly, and sees her drift onto the futon. With a few button presses, a display screen appears and unfolds from the wall. "I'm not really all that technically minded. When I got this ship, I was in a bit of a rush, so didn't get a rundown of proper care of star fairing equipment." She starts to flick through a selection of media channels, some seem to be poor quality pick ups of Fourth Channel content, while others are from her homeworld. "As for my people, we have a rigid caste system, mostly based on colouration and patterning once we age past our pupa phase. How you look after that has a big impact on what you can do, who you can be with, and so on. Just because of my colours for instance, I was no longer allowed to see my parents, and my job prospects turned to shit." "Damn, that sounds rough.." Terry tried his best to sympathise. As middle of the road he had made his life, at least he had a choice in that. "I assume there is no way to change your colours and get a better situation?" "Ha! If that were true, the entire system would collapse along with our society." Saras had stopped on what sounded like a music channel, it sounded like techno, but it had been a while since Terry had listened to any recent media in his current job. "But hey, that is not my concern. For now I just want to forget that life." Terry gently pushes himself off his seat, and carefully drifts over to the futon space. He was curious how he had even been sitting on the console mounted stool in the first place, but once he got close enough to the futon, he realised the vessel must utilise some sort of micro-gravity control system. He landed on the futon, and could feel he was somewhat stuck to it, but could easily pull himself off if he needed to. "So, you're hoping that once your races is embraced, that you'll get more freedom?" Much to Terry's surprise, Saras immediately started to snuggle up to him, making him self-concious of the cleanliness of his overalls, but also giving him a feel of her soft as satin body fur and the coolness of her smooth chitin. The mix of sensations sent a shiver through him. "I've got all the freedom I want right now." She was trying to get closer to nuzzle Terry's cheek, so he used his free arm to prop himself up and push a little closer to her. This resulted in her mandibles coming close to the front of his face. "You ever wondered whats beyond, Terry?" Her voice seemed to be becoming more husky, sensuous. It was scary but also arousing for Terry. He couldn't help turning his head away. "Well, honestly not really." He sighs. "I kinda just wanted a decent paying job to build a retirement with, hence the job I have now. Its kind of scary to consider anything beyond that." Saras slowly stroked his chest from side to side, listening to what he was saying. "I think I understand." Her voice changing to a more somber tone. "I was the same. Just wanted something that I could live well with. Not what I had at least." "If I may ask, are your people known for their lack of personal space and boundaries?" Terry coudn't help but feel awkward having a mothgirl seemingly want to be all over him. He hadn't even taken her to dinner yet, as the old stereotype went. "I just..." Saras paused, as if trying to find the right words. "I have been alone for a while, before I even got this ship. Please let me appreciate having someone else close to me?" She looked up to meet his gaze. IT was surprising for him to witness compound eyes pulling off the aged old puppy dog beggin expression. How could he say no? "Alright, just keep you hands outside my clothes, and I mean all four of them, heheh" Terry chuckled, trying his best to keep the mood light. "Thats fair. I'm going to turn the lights down, if thats alright with you?" She was still gazing into his eyes. "Not like either of us have anywhere to go or do for the time being." Another light chuckle as she reduce the brightness of the room. The hue was a cool blue, and had the effect of lulling them both to sleep.