I had every sensor tuned and recording, gathering data in every spectrum we could access. I didn't want to miss a second of it. Energy readings, movement patterns, anything that might explain what we were seeing. Maybe I could sell the data as well—I had started to see everything in terms of Telks. I had to pull myself back and remember just to enjoy the moment.

  Meanwhile, Mira had started naming them. She pointed out ones with unusual markings or strange glows and spun little stories about who they were, what they did, who they loved. She whispered them to Stewie, who played along despite pretending not to care.

  The creatures seemed completely indifferent to us. Whether they couldn't see us or simply didn't care, I couldn't say, but they drifted around us like we didn't exist.

  Eventually, the others started peeling away, returning to their routines. Lynn was already halfway through identifying resources we could gather on her datapad. Kel resumed reading some history files he'd picked up. Even the kids wandered off to unpack the rest of their haul.

  But I kept watching.

  Our guest was still plugged into the VR feed, motionless but clearly rapt. His vitals or what I could scan of them only showed elevated heart rate, but nothing alarming. Not yet.

  With the ship holding steady, I turned my focus to the system itself. I swept every corner of the surrounding space with long-range scans, looking for any anomalies, gravitational oddities, or reasons why these things were here.

  Nothing.

  Nothing unusual. No radiation spikes, no wormholes, no debris fields. Just stars, gas, and a lot of quiet. And then they vanished. No flash. No shift. No trace. One moment they were there, drifting like dancers through the void.

  The next, the space was empty.

  If we'd arrived even a few hours later, we would've missed it entirely.

  The drone turned itself around and began flying back to the ship. The old man disconnected from the feed just as it docked.

  Kel went to check on him, and I patched in to listen.

  The man was vibrant, talking faster than I could track, breathless, flushed, his words tumbling over each other as he tried to describe what he'd seen.

  "I knew it," he kept saying. "I knew they were real, alive and not bound by matter, proof of energetic biology—do you understand what this means?"

  Honestly, I feared for his heart. The man was well into his senior years, and if he dropped dead on my deck, that'd be a mess as well as bad for business.

  So I spoke up, my voice filling the hallway through the ship's speaker system.

  "Sir, you need to breathe."

  He jumped like he'd been hit by a bolt of lightning.

  But it got his attention.

  And, thankfully, broke the loop.

  Kel guided the old man into the crew lounge, one hand steady on his shoulder. The scientist still looked like he was vibrating from the inside out, excited and overwhelmed, clinging to coherence by a thread. The kids had retreated to their quarters, Mira curled up with her new cookbook, Stewie nose-deep in a technical manual.

  "What were those creatures?" Kel asked.

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  The scientist barely hesitated. "References to them were found in an ancient temple we found buried on a long-dead world at the edge of Kall-e space. The builders were insectoid. They could naturally see them and they worshipped them. Called them sky serpents, dream swimmers, gods of the light."

  Kel leaned forward to listen more intently.

  "As their civilization evolved, the writings we found became less spiritual, more scientific—well, at least, as far as we've been able to translate. They theorised that these beings live within slipstream, drifting endlessly through the higher bands of existence. But sometimes—on very rare occasions—they emerge, congregating in specific locations for only a few days."

  "And this system," Kel asked, "was one of those places."

  "Yes." His eyes shone. "I've tried to track them before. This was my fifth attempt. Always too late or in the wrong place." He smiled now, fragile and triumphant. "But today… today I saw them. Recorded them. Documented their existence. They can't deny me anymore."

  "They?" Lynn asked, standing near the doorway.

  He didn't look away. "The academic boards. The institutes. The fools who said it was impossible. That energy beings couldn't exist without mass, without a vessel. That it was pseudoscience." He even did the air quotes. Hadn't expected that gesture to last the centuries.

  He tapped a trembling finger against his temple. "They lack imagination."

  Then came the smile a little thin and worn at the edges, but filled with a quiet triumph. "They'll believe me now."

  I let the silence sit for a moment before speaking through the intercom, my voice low and steady.

  "So… what now?"

  He looked up, blinking like the question had caught him off guard. "I need to take the data to the Cartography Agency. Publish it. Let it be reviewed and seen. But…" He hesitated, glancing down at his weathered hands. "I don't have the funds for another jump. That trip cost me everything. My life savings."

  The words hung in the air.

  I was already running numbers, calculating the minimum Telk I could charge and the amount I could give back to him, just for the experience alone.

  "I could—" I started, but Lynn cut in sharply.

  "No."

  She didn't raise her voice. She didn't have to.

  "A deal's a deal," she added. "He got what he paid for."

  The old man didn't argue. He just nodded, slowly. "Then just drop me at the nearest hub station. I can find a shuttle from there. It'll be slower, but it'll do."

  Before he turned to leave to go back to the cargo bay, I asked, "Do you still have the location of the temple? Or any other sites like it?"

  He paused in the doorway. "Yes. But the records are in my office."

  I told him I'd take that as payment. He agreed without hesitation.

  While he rested, we made small talk, well, Kel did most of the talking. I listened from the bridge, keeping things light while my drones handled the refuelling and gathered a few resources Lynn had flagged as valuable for trade.

  Then, when everything was ready, we brought him home.

  No drama. No detours. Just a smooth, quiet return.

  We received the final payment without a hitch and Lynn handled the trade of the other goods, selling off the last of the gathered resources while I monitored from the docking bay. She came back pleased with the deal but not without a complaint.

  "You really need more cargo space," she grumbled, tossing her datapad onto the table in the crew lounge. "I had to pass up three more offers because we're flying around in a ship with all the storage of a suitcase."

  I might've sighed if I could. "I didn't exactly get to pick my layout, you know."

  She smirked but didn't argue.

  Still, the Telk reserves were starting to look respectable. Enough to make real decisions.

  And I'd made mine. "I want a lander and defensive upgrades before our next mission," I said.

  Lynn and Kel exchanged a look across the table.

  "Don't buy one in the inner systems," Kel said through a mouthful of pasta. "You'll get gouged. We've got a contact, an outer ring trader, decent kit, good for higher-end equipment and no questions."

  "Good prices too," Lynn added. "We can reach out to them, but it would take some time."

  Around us, the crew was mid-meal, enjoying a hearty pasta dish Mira had whipped up from a recipe in one of her new cookbooks. Stewie had even admitted it was "not bad," which, from him, was a glowing review.

  Laia's voice came gently from the avatar. "And what exactly is your plan for that location, Lazarus?"

  "I want to investigate the ruins," I said. "I'm tired of relying on pre-discovered slipstream paths and data we barely understand. Those creatures we saw, the space eels—if they live in slipstream. And the insectoid species that built that temple? They could track them. That means their understanding of slipstream must be far beyond ours."

  Forks paused halfway to mouths.

  "If we can uncover even a fragment of that knowledge," I continued, "we might find better routes. That kind of edge could change everything for us."

  No one argued.

  Even Lynn just nodded slowly, eyes thoughtful.

  Kel raised his glass. "To ancient bug temples and space eels, then."

  "To better routes," I corrected.

  "To adventure," Mira added with a grin.

  "To nice food," shouted Stewie.

  And over pasta and laughter, we all agreed.