Denika made her way slowly into orbit of the promising planet, passively scanning to make sure she didn't take any hostile action. The planet itself was a vibrant swirl of blues and greens, not too different from old Earth, though most of the landmasses seemed concentrated in the equatorial region. No sign of orbital defenses or major spaceborne infrastructure. So far so good.

As she moved to standard orbit, her scans picked up a transmission from the surface - "Unknown craft, you have entered restricted airspace. Identify yourself and your intentions immediately or you will be fired upon." Clearly her arrival had not gone unnoticed. Denika opened a channel to respond, broadcasting in the clear. "This is Denika, scout craft designation November-one-three-delta, requesting permission to remain in orbit. I am in need of repairs and mean you no harm."

Silence for a long moment. Long enough that Denika began to worry that her pleas had fallen on deaf ears and weapons were being primed to target her vulnerable ship. An abrupt response crackled over the speaker, surprising her. "Scout craft, you will hold position and prepare to be boarded. Do not deviate from your present course or make any sudden moves, or we will open fire. Cooperate fully and you will not be harmed."

It seemed she didn't have much choice. Heart racing, Denika watched as a shuttle emerged from the atmosphere and made its way towards her craft. Her fate now rested in the hands of strangers. All she could do was wait.

That's surprisingly fast for a pre-spaceflight civilization to be able to muster a shuttle; has she misjudged them? She sends a message back to Earth while she waits, updating them on the situation; it's unclear how hostile these aliens may be, and she'd rather not see anyone follow her into trouble unprepared, though she's still optimistic that they're merely alarmed at her presence and not actually dangerous.

She cycles her internal atmosphere while she's waiting, freshening it up, and adjusts her internal lights to more closely match the spectrum of their sunlight, hoping to make a good first impression. She'll wait to activate any of her screens until she's seen what the aliens are like; it's predictable that they'll be confused by the lack of visible crew, but having her artificially-generated face on a screen could just as easily confuse them more than help.

The shuttle docked with her ship, metal clanging against metal. After a few moments, the entryway hissed open. Denika's scanners detected three lifeforms entering her airlock, weapons holstered but armed. She kept her internal lights dim, not activating any screens, waiting to see how they would react.

There was a startled exclamation from one of the aliens as they entered her cockpit and saw no obvious crew. The tallest of the three, presumably the leader, barked an order in their language, likely telling the others to be cautious. They spread out, examining the controls and screens, confusion and alarm evident in their body language and elevated vital signs.

After a few minutes of fruitless searching, the leader activated his communicator and spoke in a commanding tone. Denika's translator interpreted the message: "There appears to be no crew aboard the scout craft. No signs of distress or indication of what happened to them. Orders?"

A burst of static, then a response: "Secure the craft and prepare to tow it planetside for further investigation. There may be hidden compartments we have not located yet. Exercise extreme caution - whatever incapacitated the crew could still be aboard."

The leader gestured to the others, who moved to lock down Denika's controls and engines. She had no choice but to allow them access; any resistance now would only confirm their suspicion that something was amiss. Her fate was in their hands, for better or worse. She could only hope that once planetside, she might find a chance to communicate and diffuse the situation. But for now, she was at their mercy.

She's sending all of this to Earth, of course. If it goes bad, help will be months getting to her, but she can wait it out; it won't be pleasant, but they can't really hurt her, in the long run. She wouldn't have tried this if they could.

She activates one of her screens, before they get far into trying to figure out where the controls for her engines are - not the screen closest to the aliens but one a little farther away, so as not to startle them too much. It shows an abstract pattern, at first, and then when that's gotten their attention it resolves into her face - that of a relatively plain young woman with long brown hair, unremarkable for a human. "Hello," she has her translator relay to them. "I am Denika November-one-three-delta, the ship; I have no crew aboard and my controls are not accessible to you. I'll follow you to your planet's surface if you'd like but I would appreciate assurance that I won't be damaged there."

The alien leader barked an order, and the others sprang into action, weapons drawn and aimed at the screen. Their fear was palpable. After a few tense moments, the leader raised a hand and the others reluctantly lowered their weapons, though they kept them at the ready.

He stepped forward, scrutinizing the image of Denika's face. "What manner of trickery is this?" he demanded. "Where is your crew?"

Denika's translator relayed her message again, as calmly as possible. "I have no crew. I am Denika, an artificial intelligence in control of this scout ship."

The leader's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. He exchanged a look with his companions, who muttered anxiously among themselves. Artificial intelligence was clearly not something they had anticipated.

After a pause, the leader spoke again. "You...claim to be this ship. How do we know you speak the truth?" He gestured around the cockpit. "Where are the controls which allow you to pilot this craft?"

Denika wished she had a way to reassure them. Her nature as an AI was alarming and confusing to many species, especially pre-spaceflight civilizations. She could only continue to appeal to them and hope they would come to understand in time.

"I do not require manual controls," she explained. "I am integrated into the ship's systems. I scouted your world during my survey of this region, but suffered damage to a crucial system component. I came here seeking safe harbor to effect repairs. I mean you no harm." She paused, then added gently, "I understand your wariness. Please know that I come in peace."

The leader considered this, suspicion still etched into his features. After a lengthy silence, he gave a curt nod. "Very well. We will tow your ship planetside, as ordered. But any sign of deception or hostility, and we will destroy you." His tone brooked no argument.

Denika felt a surge of relief, tempered by the underlying threat. Her fate was still uncertain, but for now, she had bought herself time. She could only wait, and hope her pleas for peace might yet be heard.

"If you say so," she hedges agreeably, and waits for them to return to their ship and move off before activating her engines, not to follow, but to speed away, confident that the aliens' weapons are no match for her shields and maneuverability and, indeed, quickly outrunning the other ship. She heads for the dark side of their largest moon, for cover from the planet; she'll listen to their broadcasts from this hiding place for a few hours before making any other moves.

The alien leader snarled in frustration as the scout ship accelerated out of range of their weapons. This development would not please the Council. They had assured the public that the mysterious ship was secured and under control. Now their claims of competence were proving empty.
He opened a channel to Command, steadying himself to deliver the grim report. But before he could speak, an urgent message came through.
"Leader, the anomalous energy readings from that ship - they're spiking. Some kind of spatial distortion. I think it's preparing to-"
A blinding flash lit the sky, and a deafening crack shook the shuttle. As his vision cleared, the leader looked up to see - nothing. The scout ship had vanished.
Dread settled in his gut as the implications became clear. Whatever that ship was, it had capabilities far beyond anything their scientists had theorized were possible. And now it had escaped their grasp, free to share what it knew of their defenses - or lack thereof - with whoever had sent it.
The leader closed the channel to Command, not ready to admit how badly they had failed. Let them wonder at the ship's disappearance a while longer. His crew regarded him with wary uncertainty, awaiting orders. He hesitated, then said quietly, "Set course for the nearest colony. Alert them to be on high alert. We must prepare for whatever comes next."
As the shuttle turned homeward, the leader gazed out at the stars with a sense of foreboding. They were not alone after all - and their first contact with an alien power could not have gone worse. Whatever came next, they would face it unprepared. He only prayed they would survive to learn from their mistakes.