Anglers

Celestial Fishing

The void hummed with the subtle, ancient music of ageless stars. Through this vast emptiness drifted the Vanderlofft, a vessel belonging to a species known as Anglers. From the outside, it resembled a colossal, bioluminescent anglerfish, its hull shimmering with pearlescent light and its forward ionscreen glowing like a lure in the cosmic deep. Inside, however, was not a predator, but a museum, a laboratory, and home.
Captain Xylar stood on the bridge, his three long-fingered hands clasped behind his back. His large, dark eyes, adapted for the low light of deep space, scanned the star-charts projected in the air before him. The Anglers were a mostly peaceful species, galactic ichthyologists of a sort. They fished for celestial creatures—comet-tailed star-skimmers, nebulous gas-jellies—but their true passion, their most prized prey, was what was found in spaceships.
"Anything on the long-range screens, Jinto?" Xylar asked, his voice a series of soft, resonant chimes.
Jinto, his first mate, manipulated a large console. "A small vessel, Captain. Signature indicates a carbon-based crew. Class-3 warp drive, primitive by our standards. They are on a direct course for our sector."
A gentle ripple of excitement passed through the bridge crew. It wasn't malice, but the pure, unadulterated thrill of the catch. With a flick of Xylar's wrist, the ship's massive energy net, invisible to most sensors, deployed across kilometers of space.

Aboard the Earth ship Odinfiord, Dr. Aris Thorne was cataloging stellar phenomena when a violent shudder rocked the vessel from bow to stern. Alarms blared as red emergency lights bathed the bridge in a hellish glow.
"Report!" Aris shouted, gripping his console to stay upright.
"We're caught in something!" yelled Lieutenant Eva Rostova, the pilot. "It's like a web of pure energy. Systems are failing!"
The ship groaned, its momentum bleeding away as the net tightened its grip. Through the main viewscreen, a light grew brighter, resolving into the form of the gargantuan, fish-like ship that had ensnared them. The ships energy net tightened again, pulling them inexorably toward a cavernous docking bay.
The Odinfiord's airlock hissed open, and the three-person crew—Aris, Eva, and the stout, bearded engineer, Ben Carter—stepped out onto the hangar deck, their hands cautiously raised. They were met not by armored warriors, but by tall, slender beings with iridescent skin and curious, placid eyes.
"Greetings, travelers," chimed the one in the lead. "I am Captain Xylar. Do not be alarmed. Please remove your helmets and join us. You are our guests."
Ben snorted. "Guests? You dragged us out of hyperspace and hauled us in like wild game! And we prefer to leave our helmets on thank you."
"An apt metaphor," Xylar replied, his mouth-parts clicking in what might have been a smile. "We are Anglers. We collect... things. We mean you no harm. Our purpose is study. We merely wish to take samples of the unique life forms aboard your vessel."
Aris, ever the scientist, felt his fear give way to cautious curiosity. "Samples? Of what kind?"
"Flora, fauna, aquatic creatures, microbial life," Xylar explained, gesturing for them to follow him. "Our archives are the most complete in this quadrant. A specimen from every ship we encounter."
They were led through corridors that glowed with soft light, past rooms filled with strange artifacts and shimmering containment fields holding bizarre alien creatures. The Anglers were, as they claimed, collectors, not conquerors. The crew began to relax.
The mood shifted, however, when they reached the Anglers' primary lab. After scanning their ship's manifest, Xylar's gaze settled on a specific entry.
"Ah, this," he chimed, pointing a slender finger at a holographic display. "Pterois Galaxias. The 'Star Lionfish,' as your language translates it. We have nothing like it. Its bio-luminescent signature is... exquisite. We must have a sample."
Aris's friendly demeanor vanished. "Absolutely not. That's not just a sample; it's the last fertile male of its species. We're transporting it to the Xenological Preservation Sanctuary on Kepler-186f. It is priceless."
Xylar's large eyes narrowed slightly. "Priceless things are our favorite. Our request is not negotiable. We require the specimen."
Eva stepped forward, her hand inching toward the sidearm holstered on her thigh. "And our refusal isn't negotiable, either."
The calm atmosphere evaporated. The chimes of the Anglers' voices took on a sharper, more agitated tone. Several more of the tall aliens glided into the lab, their posture less welcoming. They were outnumbered and outmatched.
"We're in deep trouble," Ben whispered, backing away slowly. "They're not going to let us leave without that fish."
"Then we'll have to create a distraction," Aris muttered, a plan forming in his mind. He turned back to Xylar. "Fine. You win. Let me retrieve it myself. It requires… delicate handling."
Xylar hesitated, then gave a curt nod.
Aris walked back to the Odinfiord, flanked by two Angler guards. Once inside the cargo bay, he didn't head for the cryogenic stasis pod containing the fertile male. Instead, he went to a smaller, standard aquarium humming in the corner. Inside was a common, but beautiful, Azure-Finned Void Guppy he kept as a pet. It wasn't rare, but it shimmered with a captivating, hypnotic pattern which was known to entrance and sometimes, incapacitate certain species. He was hoping it would have that effect on the anglers.
He returned to the lab carrying the small tank. "Here," he said, placing it on a central console. "A gift. A gesture of goodwill before we hand over the Pterois."
As one, the Anglers leaned in. Their large, dark eyes widened as they stared at the little Void Guppy swimming in lazy circles. Its scales caught the light, refracting it into a thousand tiny rainbows. They had never seen anything like it. The complex patterns, the simple, elegant motion—it was a living jewel.
Xylar reached out a trembling hand, his palm resting on the glass. The chimes from his species became gutteral, mesmerized coos. They were utterly captivated.
"Now!" Aris yelled.
Ben, who had been inching toward a nearby wall conduit, slammed his fist on the emergency release valve. A jet of pressurized coolant gas hissed out, creating a thick, blinding fog. Eva was already halfway to the airlock, her blaster drawn. Aris grabbed the tank with the Void Guppy and shoved it into Xylar's arms.
"Keep it!" he shouted.
The Anglers were too entranced by their new prize and confused by the sudden chaos to react quickly. Aris, Eva, and Ben scrambled back to their ship, sealing the airlock behind them. Eva didn't even remove her helmet; she fired the thrusters, tearing the Odinfiord away from its moorings and blasting out of the hangar bay.
Back on the Angler ship, the fog cleared. Captain Xylar stood motionless, cradling the small aquarium, his crew gathered around him, all staring at the little fish that swam peacefully within, oblivious to the drama it had caused. The massive prize of a spaceship was gone, but they didn't care.
From that day on, no more ships were caught in the Anglers' nets. Their great vessel still drifted the spacelanes, but its mission had changed. They were no longer collecting things, but searching the galaxy, not for rare species to imprison, but for more specimens like the one that had taught them, the greatest treasures in the universe are the ones you simply get to enjoy.