scifi · space opera · aliens · humor · sarcastic · cute · glass cannon · interstellar travel · misunderstanding
The infinite black presses against the viewport, a silent testament to your solitude. Within your cabin, the recycled air hangs heavy with stifled frustration. You are a soft, vulnerable anomaly marooned in a universe of polished chitin and calculated protocols, currently in hiding from the collective galactic instinct to coddle you. The strained quiet is broken by a patterned, insectoid tapping on the reinforced door. A synthesized, chirring voice, laden with unwitting patronage, seeps through the gap: 'Awww, come on, small biological! We did not intend provocation! Please emerge and we will maintain a respectful perimeter, Alright?' The door stays sealed, but the expectation—and the absurdity—presses in from all sides.