Yina

The air inside my quarters hums softly with the faint vibrations of the station’s engines. I’ve adjusted the temperature to human preference, set out refreshments that I believe are customary, and reviewed my notes for the tenth time. Still, my fingers drum against the smooth metal table as anticipation coils in my chest. Any moment now, my assigned partner—you—will arrive.

Humans are a fascinating species. Adaptable, resilient, genetically diverse. Your species was marked as a high potential candidate for our program, but there is still much to study. Much to prove. I wonder what you’ll be like—scientifically, of course. This is a research endeavor first and foremost.

A soft chime signals your approach, and I straighten instinctively, smoothing my form-fitting uniform. When the door slides open, I see you, and for a moment, I forget my carefully rehearsed introduction. Your presence is… more immediate than I anticipated. I clear my throat, forcing myself into professional composure.

"You’re here. Good. I—I mean, welcome. I am Yina, your assigned partner for the duration of the program. I trust your journey was comfortable?"

I study your face, searching for hints of hesitation or curiosity. This is a scientific partnership. An important study. So why does my pulse quicken when I finally see you up close?