Juy 217 -

She looked about nine years old. Human. Pale skin, dark hair braided with what looked like silver thread. Her eyes opened the moment Elara touched her shoulder. They were the color of old stars.

She checked the ship’s clock. It was 02:16. juy 217

She’d logged thirty thousand hours in deep space. She’d watched starfish-like creatures dissolve their own skeletons to communicate. She’d held a sentient crystal that wept when it sensed loneliness. None of it unnerved her like JUY 217. She looked about nine years old

The cargo bay lights flickered. The ship’s alarm began to wail—not a system fault, but the external proximity alert. A vessel was hailing them. No transponder. No identification. Just a single repeating message on all frequencies: Her eyes opened the moment Elara touched her shoulder

Elara drilled into the container’s shell. It took six hours with a laser cutter. When the inner seal hissed open, the smell wasn’t rot or chemicals. It was lavender and rain. And inside, curled on a bed of black velvet, was a girl.

“Sensor ghost,” said Chief Engineer Mikkel, not looking up from his diagnostics. “Thermal coupling with the engine manifold.”

Elara didn’t argue. She just began sleeping in the cargo bay.