Work Text:
Time relative to first contact: -ℓ days, IIℓIλ seconds
Ship’s log #: V+∀V++ℓλ
Repaired heat shielding for fuel tank I∀; cooling effect reduced, returned to balmy ∀∀ℓ degrees. Won’t freeze to death next time I enter my workshop. Yay.
What else. Right - signs of strain on navigation shielding again. Some kind of pitting to hull near navigation deck. External robots also show signs of strain, will probably need to be replaced again before next quarter. Added to endless to do list of repairs.
Inner solar system not providing much useful data. Might wander over to the outer debris belt again and try to isolate all the orbital patterns of the larger bodies. Have to do something besides ship repairs. Gather data and maybe one day - hah. Yeah. Right.
[loud proximity alert gong]
Huh, proximity sensor going off. Must be another damn asteroid - pretty sure there’s no orbital intersections scheduled… but who knows, this debris belt really is thicker than my underarmor.
[loud proximity alert gong]
Keep your belt on, I’m coming. Which panel - forward aft, okay. Easy enough to avoid intersection with the object, based on its velocit--
Wait.
It’s - slowing down.
…that’s not a fucking asteroid.
It’s slowing down.
The shape is - weird. Weird weird weird. I think - no. But… maybe?
Second Engineer 
of the Stareater Task Force, signing off to figure out what the fuck that thing is
Time relative to first contact: ℓ days, ℓ seconds
Ship’s log #: V+∀V++IV
Alien. It’s an alien!!!!! Alien ship!!! I wasn’t trained for this! Is there a manual? Did 
leave a manual for sentient alien interactions in their workshop? Oh fuck I am going to fuck this uppppp. Oh no. Okay. I need to convince them I’m friendly.
….Are they drunk? What kind of idiot is flying that thing?
Wait. Are they - running away from me??
Okay, that’s fair. But I’m not going to allow it.
Get back here, you!
Second Engineer , also known as pilot , of the Catch That Alien And Make It Be Friends With Me Taskforce, wish me luck
Time relative to first contact: ℓ days, Vℓ+ seconds
Ship’s log #: V+∀V++Iλ
Wow. I thought I was a bad pilot, but now I have a frame of reference. Not that I’m judging. Much. If I were competent at my job, I wouldn’t still be here, right? But I’m here, and now the aliens are also here, and maybe they can help, and maybe I can finally, finally, finally go home?
Orrrrr, other possibility: the aliens will kill me, crack my carapace open, drink my mercury, then go on their evil inscrutable alien ways that are unrelated to the infection eating all the stars except the one we are currently orbiting.
I’m overthinking this.
Anyway, the alien has finally stopped running from me. It was nice, actually. We did - it was like a dance? A space dance! First communication I’ve had with - anyone, besides this stupid log, in centuries. Maybe it’s stupid, maybe I’m just really fucking lonely and desperate, but it felt - friendly. Like coaxing someone shy to talk, you know?
No, I’m probably just really fucking lonely and gonna get my blood drank by the aliens. Woo hoo!
Anyway, the point is, they stopped running! I’m gonna send them a message. At least the hull robots haven’t crashed out yet. Gotta ask this alien to be my bestie forever and also please have a scientist alien that can help me before I can focus on robot repairs.
Also on my to do list: I really should go poke through ’s workbench later. I have no idea what I’m doing. What if I horrendously offend the alien? I horrendously offend my own species all the time!
Too late to worry about all that. Composed message. Sent message. Friend request made.
Now it’s time to wait. Again. Love waiting.
Second Engineer of the Forever Waiting In Space mission, nervous as fuck
Time relative to first contact: ℓ days, IIVVI seconds
Ship’s log #: V+∀V++I+
They missed the first message. Totally reasonable, they had no idea what I was doing. But THEN. THEN. THEN that crazy fucking alien left it’s ship and caught the canister manually. Do they not have robots on Planet Alien? Is their engineer a moron??
It had some kind of tether that it tanged itself in. It almost fell OFF its ship. I almost killed my alien, trying to say hello. In my defense, future scholars of Erid, who the fuck would think anyone would LEAVE THEIR SHIP and enter the cold vacuum of space??
Anyway. It did catch the canister.
Brave alien. Stupid, but brave. Fuck, I’m excited to meet them and yell at them about how dumb that idea was. Not that they’ll understand me. Surely I can get it across via semaphore. I can dance my disdain. Ha ha. Why are they taking so long to respond?
[loud proximity alert gong]
Oh! Oh oh okay. Here we go. Alien contact. Gonna use my robots to catch it like a civilized spacefarer who doesn’t want to die in the vacuum of space. Will report back later.
out
Time relative to first contact: ℓ days, λλℓ++ seconds
Ship’s log #: V+∀V++I∀
No time to look for first contact protocols. Not sure they even exist. I’m just gonna fucking DO IT. The aliens seem open to contact. I’m desperate for contact. Let’s go let’s go let’s go.
Our 3D printer is top-notch, even if all our crew is fucking dead! Let’s goooooo.
FUCK, what if whatever killed my crew kills them too?
It didn’t kill me, but I still have no idea why.
Well, either I’m under some kind of metaphysical curse, or I’m missing something. Hopefully the aliens do know more than I do, even if their ship is ugly as excrement.
Docking bridge construction is a go!
out, hopefully not about to commit xenocide
Time relative to first contact: ℓ days, +ℓI+∀ seconds
Ship’s log #: V+∀V++Vℓ
An alien came through the tunnel. It’s here. It’s waiting.
No way to be sure if it’s the same alien. It has the same number of limbs, same basic proportions, but so do most individuals of my species.
But. Something about how it moves feels like - like a person. Like an individual person, someone distinct. Someone clumsy, excited, scared, stupid. Brave.
Yeah, I think it’s that idiot who went on the outside of their ship. It’s them, waiting for me in the tunnel.
I’m reading too much into it, right? Fuck, I’ve been alone too long.
I’m - I’m going in there. I’m going to meet them. I’m going.
going into the docking bridge, possibly to be disarticulated messily, Erid please remember me fondly
Time relative to first contact: V days, VℓλII seconds
Ship’s log #: V+∀V++Vℓ
The alien is brilliant, dumb, cute, gross. I’m obsessed with them. They’re talking to me! They can talk, they understand models, they communicate with gestures and sounds, just like we do! They’re sentient, and kind, and excited.
I’m calling them Squish, because they’re a leaky blob without any fucking carapace at all. All their hard parts are internal, like an upper atmospheric jellodactyl. They’re wet, everywherrrrre. Just oozing around and flopping cheerfully at me.
These are great xenology notes, right? Ha ha have I mentioned I’m not a biologist yet? Sorry, Erid, I’m all you got and I can’t fuck this up, but I have noooo idea what I’m doing.
I’m losing my mind.
I adjusted the pressure and temperature for their side of the docking bridge. Squish likes it cold as balls over there, with absurdly low pressure, and an atmospheric composition crazy high in oxygen. The pressure makes sense with Squish’s gelatinous structure. They really do remind me of Eridian upper atmospheric creatures. Which are delicious, fuck I’m tired of rations. Not that I want to eat my alien friend. I’m just really tired and they look kind of tasty? Strike that from the record, I’m being weird and talking about food again. I will have to eat at some point, but I don’t want to sleep, especially not now when things are finally happening.
Anyway, if Squish can survive in 21% oxygen, I should be terrified of them.
Except how can you be scared of something that giggles? I’m positive they were laughing with me. They danced with me. They’re clumsy. They’re extremely easily distracted. They got so invested in tapping and listening to me they didn’t notice my atmospheric models until I was practically cracking xenonite trying to redirect their attention.
Definitely too cute to be afraid of, or to eat.
But they’re smart. My alien is so smart, and brave, and dumb. They figured out my model of the oxygen rings, and after some honestly reasonable hesitation, took their helmet off when I asked.
They trusted me. I have to be - no one should trust me, after how much I’ve messed up here. Stuck here for centuries.
They took my model of the Stareater line back into their ship and now I’m stuck here again, twiddling my damn claws. Not that I’ve been totally useless, I worked up a quick mini-airlock to make exchanging models easier, but how long could it possibly take to confirm that we’re both at this particular star for the same reason? There’s no way they’re here at random.
Oh, oh, they’re coming back
out
Time relative to first contact: V days, VℓλII seconds
Ship’s log #: V+∀V++Vℓ
Okay, Squish definitely recognizes the model of the stareater line. They shook it at me and made a ton of incomprehensible sounds, jumping around their side of the docking bridge like a freshly hatched pebble.
I’m starting to think Squish can’t echolocate? They don’t click at all, even when they’re trying to examine something closely. They can obviously perceive my gestures, and are generating their own sounds. But never any regular pings. Weird.
Oh, and Squish brought me some alien stuff!!!! A flat device, with arms that moves at a regular pace in a circle. Then he used my amazing mini-airlock to give me an alien device. An alien device!!! It’s so retractable and bendy, and makes a tickling sound when it snaps back. I love it. Squish is not getting this back.
Also, I think Squish has given me some kind of name? It’s alarmingly… short. Probably something silly; they’re a very silly alien. I guess I can’t complain much, given what I’ve been calling them.
Wait, they’re - going back to their ship again? Stop leaving meeee, Squish! I have just met you but if anything happened to you I would destroy both our ships and hopes for salvation!
Not that I’m overdramatic or lonely or anything.
out
Time relative to first contact: V days, VℓλII seconds
Ship’s log #: V+∀V++Vℓ
It’s a clock!!! The flat object with arms that move at regular paces!!! Squish added texture to the surface, and there’s numbers - the arms point at different numbers!!! Smart smart smart alien, even though I’m starting to think they really, truly don’t echolocate at all. They raised the texture of the numbers only after it must have been clear I couldn’t hear them. Previously the numbers must have been there, but too flat to hear.
Oh, oh I wonder if this retractable toy has numbers? They must also be too flat for me to hear, but how does Squish hear them?
Weird alien tertiary senses, maybe? Fuck, I wish my crew wasn’t all dead. For so many reasons, but mostly because I zoned out during all of my biology classes while I was designing mantlescrapers.
All this to say, I got, uh. Pretty excited when I recognized the clock! When I brought an Eridian clock back, Squish was just as excited, moving its top appendage around - a hole for producing noise? The top appendage has, uh. A lot of holes. I wouldn’t bring it up, rude rude rude, but all the holes do seem very relevant to alien life. The movement of the biggest hole seems to curve up when it does the positive gesture with its soft claws. I think it must be an alien gesture of happiness?
The other two big holes seem paired. They open and close simultaneously. There are smooshy (bear with me, literally everything on this guy is wet and squishes) orbs in the holes that move around. I know, you get used to it, though. It seems to move the orbs towards things - maybe they’re sensory organs?
Biology and sociology. Save me. Anyway, I think we’re bonding. I think - I think Squish likes me. I like them, in all their floppy wet glory, which - is lucky, huh? I don’t bond that easily with people.
I’m recording this in some detail, because I’m alone again and apparently will be for a while.
Squish left after giving me the clock, and came back with a device that seems to record the sounds I make, converting them into - something. I can hear the device whirring away, but I can’t hear shit. They keep turning their top appendage with the squishy orbs towards the flat surface, like when I aim my auricles at something.
Weird weird weird.
Their memory also doesn’t seem perfect, but they’re flexible thinkers, creative. A good problem solver. If they can record the information they need, they don’t have to have it all stored in their memory. My granddam’s brain is getting a little cloudy with age, maybe - this could help them, this kind of device. There’s so much we can learn from each other, assuming we manage to save our stars.
Anyway, Squish and I can talk now! Aliens, having conversations! I can’t stop spinning. It’d be embarrassing, but probably the alien doesn’t recognize Eridian signs of overexcitement. It’s fine! I’m not an embarrassment to my species or anything, ha ha.
Squish attached their weird flat clock to the xenonite between us and tapped repeatedly to indicate a time difference of approximately I day IIℓIλ seconds. Then they waved a limb at me and stumbled off to their ship, banging their dorsal appendage on the frame and emitting what I can only assume are alien expletives. So they’ll be back later. I don’t know why they’re leaving; we don’t have enough shared language for them to explain it yet.
Squish is not the most graceful creature. But they’re cute. And kind. And left me, and they’re - coming back, I’m just gonna. Watch our clocks and fiddle with the strange retractable toy they gave me.
Fuck, I need to sleep soon.
I hate hate hate sleeping.
But maybe - maybe soon, I can ask my awkward, squishy star saving friend to watch? I think - unless I’m hearing wrong. I think they might be alone on their ship, too.
We only have each other. What are the odds of that?
I’m just an engineer. I fix things, tangible things, things I can touch. I can’t hypothesize about what it means for us to have found each other in our interstellar neighborhood.
But I know the odds were low. I’ve been waiting here a long time.
Worth it.
Engineer of the new Joint Interplanetary Stareater Task Force, signing off