The alien creature in front of Captain Mason Wright slowly and purposefully ran its spaghetti-thin tendrils up and down his suit. Inside the pressurized helmet, he could hear the rustling of fabric as his new friend explored every square inch of his body, which was frozen in a rictus of unvarnished terror. Nobody expected to find life, much less intelligent life, on this mission. But through the rustling and the steady din of his oxygen tank, Mason heard clear speech patterns coming from the translucent blob just beyond his visor. It was speaking to him; and it was not happy. Daring to make his first move in minutes, Mason stole a glance back at his craft. He would never make it… and the rest of the welcome wagon was on its way. He could see their silhouettes in the darkness growing closer by the second. Suddenly, the tendrils snapped his head forward, and for the first time Captain Wright was looking into what could only be its eyes.

He never heard the submarine leave without him.