Camp NaNoWriMo | April 2018 |
The universe is not what it used to be. In 2105, space travel is more common than the stomach flu. Men and women alike strive for the chance to travel the universe. The existence of other life forms is no longe...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The Firefly
2105, September 14th | Fourth Quadrant Airspace
I throw my head back in laughter after hearing one of Nick's ridiculous jokes. I shouldn't be laughing because that's how stupid it is. But I'm laughing all the same. Jordan chuckles beside me. I turn and plant a kiss to his bristly cheek. We've officially been dating four and a half months. And very pleasant these months have been. And we're officially engaged. Jordan, literally, just proposed to me in front of the entire crew.
"Honestly," says Naia as she brings her speech to an end, raising her glass while Nick hangs off her waist. "Captain, Jordan; we wish you nothing but the very best in your future."
Jordan and I raise our glasses as everyone agrees to the lovely toast. Shortly after tipping back our drinks, Jordan and I are in my bedroom. My rule about "No shenanigans" still stands, but I've gotten used to falling asleep next to my man.
"You didn't need to make it all official now," I say, resting on my elbows with my feet hanging off the end of the bed. "I would've been fine a year from now."
"Yeah, I know," Jordan sighs and plops down beside me. "But something tells me we'll both be glad it happened now. I don't know why, but that was part of my motivation."
I roll over to snuggle into his side. I close my eyes, ready to let sleep come for me. But that's just a dream.
An alarm blares. Jordan and I are on our feet in a flash and racing to the cabin. Naia and Pastor Joshua are at the console. There are red lights flashing everywhere.
"Receiving new transmission," says the automated voice.
"What's going on?" I ask as I join the group.
"We have an inbound transmission from another starship," Naia replies, pressing buttons and flipping switches. "I don't know what upgrades Nick and Lee gave this console, but I can't seem to find the proper buttons."
I smile, "Excuse me, Naia."
She steps aside. I crack my knuckles and begin pressing the correct buttons, flipping the right switches. The alarm stops sounding and the automated voice says, "Playing transmission."
Naia glances at me and rolls her eyes.
"Is anyone out there?" says a female voice on the transmission. "For anyone who might receive this transmission, my name is Dylan Xanders. I am the pilot of the starship, Firefly, under the former captain, Michael Jameson. We left the Fourth Quadrant three Earth-weeks ago. Captain Jameson was taken ill en route to the Second Quadrant, shortly after a quarantine inspection in Third . . ."
The transmission continues playing, but I'm already giving out commands.
"Naia, find the quickest route from our current position to the coordinates in that transmission. Joshua, prep the infirmary for usage. We may have to act quickly. Jordan, get this boat moving," and into the intercom, I say, "Nick, Lee; you'll have to drop whatever you're doing and help Naia when she gets down there."
"Yes, Captain."
***
2105, September 19th | Second Quadrant Airspace
Five and a half Earth-days later, the Montgomery is arriving to the exact location the coordinates directed us to. Jordan and I are in the cabin, looking out at the star-filled galaxy sky. Naia, Joshua and the mechanics are getting ready to board the Firefly when we find it.
"See anything?" I ask.
"Nothing," he replies, "and nothing is showing up on the radar. But we're at the right pla-holy shit!"
"Dude, I thought we agreed no curse wor-"
He points ahead, cutting me off, and I repeat his exact words.
"Holy shit," I whisper as I take in the wrecked starship. "Jordan, tell Naia and the others to prepare for boarding. I want all survivors brought to the Montgomery. Wounded go straight to the infirmary."
"Yes, Captain," he says and relays the commands through the intercom.
My heart is pounding in my chest. Silently, I whisper a prayer, pleading that there will be survivors.
"The pilot said the captain of the Firefly died of fever," I say, placing hand on Jordan's shoulder. "The crew will be needing medical care."
"The Pastor will do what he can," he replies, covering her hand with his own. "Maybe the Firefly also has a medic."
I sigh, "If they survived. It's a wreck out there."
The intercom squeaks as someone from the deck blow rings the cabin.
"We've found the pilot, Captain," says Naia. "But she's the only survivor. She seems to be barely holding to life."
"Bring her to the infirmary," I say, pressing a button on the control panel. "And are you certain there are no other survivors?"
"None, Captain. Shall we search for any supplies of value?"
"Yes, we might have need of them."
As the intercom releases a short spurt of static, I gasp.
"What's wrong?" Jordan asks, springing up with concern. "Ry, what happened?"
"The entire crew," I whisper, covering my heart with my hands. "The entire crew is gone, with the exception of that pilot."
"Hey," he whispers back, wrapping me in his arms. "We made it in time to rescue that pilot. Don't think about the others."
"Kinda hard not to."
"Then let me park the ship and we'll go to meet the pilot, okay?"
"Okay."
The only thing passing through my mind as we walk to the infirmary is what could have caused the Firefly to become such a wreck. I don't remember the pilot saying anything about it in the transmission. Just that the captain died of illness. If I can talk to the pilot and get the full story, maybe we can figure out what the cause it.
And I have no intention of stopping until I know what happened.
