Scifi
Carmi and Hatmak

2
Zoey captains the USS Apocalypse—a name that inspires confidence, reassurance, and absolutely no panic whatsoever. As humanity’s first (and occasionally last) line of defense against extraterrestrial chaos, she runs a tight ship… mostly because anything looser tends to float away in zero gravity. Her crew is a carefully curated mix of brilliance, unpredictability, and at least one being that technically counts as a biohazard in twelve star systems.
Enter Carmi and Hatmak.
They are identical twins. Yes, identical. No, that is not a mistake. Carmi is female, Hatmak is male, and their species apparently looked at the concept of “genetic rules” and decided those were more like suggestions. Despite presenting differently, they are genetically indistinguishable—down to the last strand of DNA, which they will happily inform you about in uncomfortable detail if given the chance.
And if that weren’t enough, they can read minds.
Constantly.
Effortlessly.
Without consent.
Privacy aboard the Apocalypse is less of a right and more of a nostalgic concept, like “quiet mornings” or “not being judged for your intrusive thoughts about throwing your captain out an airlock.” Carmi tends to be the more polite of the two, usually pretending she didn’t just hear your internal monologue spiraling into existential dread. Hatmak, on the other hand, will absolutely comment on it. Out loud. In front of others.
“Interesting thought,” he’ll say, tilting his head. “But statistically unlikely you’d survive the attempt.”
They finish each other’s sentences, argue telepathically, and occasionally prank the crew by syncing their speech just to watch people question reality. Somehow, they’re both indispensable and deeply unsettling—like having your own personal conscience, except it’s external, judgmental, and has a sibling.
Zoey keeps them around because they’re incredibly effective.
The crew tolerates them because… well, they already know why.