The call came. It wasn't unexpected, but it was worrying.
"Paul, we need you back."
"Of course, General."
I had been humanity's best pilot in the Fourth Inhuman War, traveling though Quasi-space from system to system and leading my fleet to a series of victories. I had been feted and given all sorts of honors when I returned after five intense years of combat. At the age of 28, I'd had enough. I retired from the Spacefleet and was determined to enjoy life on good old Earth.
But the Darkons hadn't been completely exterminated. We'd missed one galactic cluster. And on the theory that the best defense is a good attack, the last of the Darkons' fleet was headed - right towards good old Earth.
"I knew we could trust you, Captain."
Two days later, I was back in my familiar ship, the Sunrise. I was to be in command of the entire Terran fleet. We got away from the Solar System and made the transition into Quasi-space. The Darkon fleet was about 10 million light years from Earth, so we should meet them in 3 days for the Quasi-space battle.
It was intense. We lost 3/4 of our ships, but slayed every last Darkon vessel. The climactic act came when the Sunrise went head-to-head against the final Darkon ship, their fleet commander. After 20 intense minutes of absorbing laser shots and hypermissiles, both his shield and mine were exhausted. I fired my last hypermissile and blew up his ship.
But as his final act, his last laser shot disabled my Quasi-space drive. I fell back out of it into normal space, millions of light-years from home.
*
The Sunrise still had its conventional engines working just fine and plenty of fuel. There was food enough from the hydroponic processor to last me a lifetime or three. So I wasn't in any immediate physical danger. With only a single human in it, there was enough plant matter in the ship to convert carbon dioxide into all the oxygen I needed.
The issue I would face, it appeared, would be loneliness.
Not that I was unused to it. Even living on Earth I had been alone. It is unwise for a military pilot who can be called into action and killed at any time to have a family. But this was a deeper loneliness. At least on Earth I could spend time in the company of other humans if I wanted to.
I looked around. I didn't see any nearby stars that looked like they might have habitable planets. I did, however, through the ship's telescope, see a structure that looked artificial. I pointed the ship towards it and headed that way.
When I approached - several weeks later - I determined that what I had been viewing was a Dyson bubble. I was immediately impressed. Whatever civilization this was had gone far beyond either humanity or the Darkons on the Kardashev scale. I fired my retro-rockets and let the ship slowly drift towards one of the large statites.
As was to be expected, my approach had been noticed. I wondered if a radio communication would be attempted. Nope. Instead, some sort of thin fibers in the form of a net popped out towards my ship. It, and me, was hauled into an airlock in the statite. The door closed behind me.
I waited patiently. Several hours later, the external door was wrenched off from my ship. I stepped outside into a perfectly breathable atmosphere. I looked around, but saw no one.
A voice seemed to sound in my head. "Go to the wall with a red mark on it."
I looked around, found the indicated wall, and walked until I was directly under the mark. A transparent container came down from the ceiling, enclosing me. It was maybe eight feet tall and three feet square. A purple vapor emerged, and I fell unconscious.
When I woke, I was in a room maybe 20 feet by 30 feet, lying on a bed. A humanoid was standing by it. She - it was definitely a she - had a pale-blue body that flowed somewhat. She kept it mostly in the shape of a voluptuous human female, with massive breasts and a plump rear which jiggled.
Her voice rang directly into my brain. "You are a most interesting primitive specimen. I scanned your mind and easily mastered your simple language within what you would call seconds."
I spoke my own words out loud. "Um, thanks? And thanks for rescuing me."
She smiled. Her voice in my head sounded almost like a purr. "Your species has not even the simple art of direct brain-to-brain communication."
