The Secret Glow of the Lost Crewmate

The night cycle aboard the starship Aurora drifted in softly, washing every metallic corner of the ship with a pale blue hue. Inside this floating home, where quiet engines hummed like a sleeping giant, a small crewmate named Lumo walked slowly down the corridor. Lumo was the tiniest member of the ship’s team, with a bright yellow suit and a helmet that looked slightly too big for his head. Yet inside that helmet lived a heart that carried more curiosity than fear, even in the strangest moments of space.

Tonight, Lumo felt something different—an odd warmth glowing in his chest like a tiny lantern. He pressed a hand against his suit and whispered to himself.

— “Why does my heart feel like it’s shining?”

No one answered, of course. The corridor was empty, and the others were already resting in their quarters. But the glow didn’t fade. It shimmered softly, pulsing with a quiet rhythm, guiding him somewhere he didn’t fully understand.

As Lumo wandered deeper into the ship, he passed by the control room where Cyan, the tall and calm crewmate, was finishing her shift. She noticed the yellow spark inside his suit and raised her visor slightly.

— “Lumo… your suit is glowing. Are you okay?”

— “I… I think something is calling me,” Lumo replied, unsure but brave.

Cyan knelt down so their helmets were level.

— “Calling you? From where?”

— “I don’t know. But it feels gentle, not scary.”

Cyan gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

— “Then let me go with you. No one should follow strange lights alone.”

Together they floated through the ship, their steps soft against the metallic floor. The glow inside Lumo’s suit grew brighter, illuminating their way like a tiny guiding star. It led them past Navigation, past Electrical, even past the Reactor room where the machines hummed like sleepy beasts.

Finally, they reached a small maintenance bay long forgotten by most of the crew. The door slid open with a creak that sounded almost like an old sigh.

Inside, everything was dark until Lumo’s glow spilled across the floor, revealing something unexpected.

A crewmate sat curled up in the corner, suit cracked, helmet dim, and body trembling. Their color was a deep blue—not the normal blue, but an unusual darker shade with tiny sparkles around the edges.

Lumo gasped.

— “A… a lost crewmate?”

Cyan stepped closer, visor fogging from her breath.

— “I’ve never seen this one before.”

The mysterious crewmate lifted their head slowly, eyes soft but tired.

— “Please… don’t be afraid,” the stranger whispered, voice trembling as if it hadn’t been used for a long time.

Lumo walked toward them, heart glowing brighter than ever.

— “Why are you here all alone? Did someone leave you behind?”

The dark blue crewmate looked down at their hands.

— “I got separated… cycles ago. I tried calling out, but my comms were broken. The ship shifted routes, and I’ve been stuck here in the shadows ever since.”

Cyan’s voice softened.

— “You’ve been alone this whole time?”

The crewmate nodded slowly.

— “I thought everyone forgot me… so I stayed quiet. I didn’t want to scare anyone.”

Lumo’s chest glowed like a sunrise. His tiny hands reached out.

— “You’re not alone anymore. My heart led me to you.”

The stranger blinked in surprise.

— “Your heart… glows?”

— “Only when something important is happening,” Lumo said shyly.

The stranger let out a soft laugh, the first warm sound their voice had made in ages.

— “Then I think your heart is stronger than all the engines on this ship.”

Cyan helped the stranger stand, stabilizing their weak suit.

— “We’ll take you to MedBay. They’ll fix your suit, repair your comms, and get you back with us.”

As the three of them walked back toward the brighter areas of the ship, Lumo’s glow spread like gentle moonlight, filling the corridors with warmth. It wasn’t harsh or blinding—it was a comforting shimmer that made even the cold metal walls feel alive.

When they reached MedBay, the ship’s doctor, Lime, looked at the glowing trio in shock.

— “By the stars… where did you find this crewmate?”

Cyan smiled.

— “Lumo found them. Or rather… he felt them.”

— “Felt them?” Lime asked, examining the glowing chest.

Lumo nodded proudly.

— “Something inside me told me they were there. Like my heart was guiding me.”

As the doctor repaired the cracks in the stranger’s suit, the glow in Lumo’s chest slowly dimmed. Not because it was gone—because the mission it called him to had been completed.

The dark blue crewmate sat up, feeling stronger.

— “Thank you… for finding me.”

— “We’re a crew,” Lumo replied quietly. “No one gets left behind.”

Hours later, the entire crew gathered to meet their long-lost member. They shared warm food, soft laughter, and gentle joy. For the first time in a long while, the starship Aurora felt alive with hope.

The captain approached Lumo, kneeling so her helmet was at eye level.

— “Your courage brought someone home tonight.”

Lumo felt shy but proud.

— “I just followed the glow.”

The captain placed a small badge on his suit—a tiny emblem shaped like a golden star.

— “Sometimes,” she said, “the smallest crewmate carries the brightest light.”

That night, as the ship floated quietly through the vastness of space, Lumo lay in his bunk. His chest no longer glowed, but the warmth of what he’d done wrapped around him like a soft blanket.

And far outside, among shimmering stars, the Aurora glided forward with one more heart beating inside it.

One more voice.

One more light.

And not a single soul drifting in the dark ever again.