Saturday, October 2, 2010

Short Story: Lost and Found (Part 1)

Were there air to support it, the pathetic hyperspace enginges on the rickety old craft would leave a massive bang in the area as the engine tore a hole in time and space, finally emerging at it's new location. Heavily fallen into disrepair, laser turrets refitted on the old cruiser to work as mining tools instead, the old spaceship was nothing but a true hunk of junk. Still it seemed fit for flight.

"Report, Master Pilot Xrii." The commander gives, their native language a series of clicks and wheezes supported by the black toxin masks they wore for safety.

"We are still approximately seventeen years away from the Fleet, Commander. With no homing beacons powered, it is not even certain they're there when we-.."
Could his eyes be seen behind the jury-rigged pilot mask, they'd be narrowed, his tattered comm device picking up something on wavelengths long abandoned.

"Speak, Master Pilot. Do not disgrace yourself with silence."

"Listen for yourself, Commander."

The young pilot offered over the dated headset, a furious Commander hoisiting it to his ear.

"What is it, Master Pilot?"

"I believe it's a distress signal, Commander."

The Commander wheezed an angry sigh, discarding the headset swiftly. "Out here? Open the scanning devices."

A quick pull of a rusted lever sees the front of the ship slide away it's main hull, revealing massive, shaded windows. The two men stared out into the reaches of space before them, entirely shocked as a conviniently derelict-looking vessel sweeps before their puny ship.

"A ship! Hail them, Master Pilot!"

A rasping clear of the Pilot's throat before he records the message to be sent in broken English.

Unknown Vessel
This is the Feirz Mk V. We intercepted your distress signal. Please respond.


------


Screeches quickly returned into the weary old headset attached to the far too dated communications system installed on the aged rig, Xrii quickly swept the headset from his frail ears, crying out in agony.

"What are you doing, Master Pilot?!" The Commander demanded angrily, lifting the headset from the floor.
A chatter of immense magnitude bleeds into the maladjusted system, and for but a moment, a painful jolt of agonizing screams fall on frequencies the two cannot fully hear, bringing them both to their knees. A silent pop, followed by a burst of fire, the tortured headset springing into flames at the overload, the communication system fried. "What in the-.."

"I detect strange energy outputs in the region, Commander. We are no longer alone."

"I knew I should've sold this ship and stayed on Tessla Prime. Very well. Did you get an answer from the distressed ship?"

"No, Commander. Should I perform routine procedure?"

"Yes, Master Pilot. Kill all functions except the ropecannon, we'll jump over. Hopefully we'll be out of here before anyone finds us."

Soon enough, a small hookshot fires from the underside of the dented vessel, a pathetic attempt to latch their vessel together with the massive, derelict ship,the both of them acting against better judgement when faced with the possibility of treasure.

-----

Tearing out the broken communication system from it's holder, the Master Pilot gave a wheeze of a sigh.

"It's fried, Commander. We cannot hail or recieve messages. Whatever that was, it burnt out every circuit. I have a bad feeling about this."

"Nonsense, Master Pilot! We are obligated to help the distressed, communication or no. We will make do without the translator. Is the ropeline attached?"

"Yes, Commander."

"Excellent, let us scale across."

A small hatch manually opened on the rickety old craft, sending what little air held inside out into the reaches of space, the two scavenger pilots heartily protected in their custom masks and flying gear. Fortunately seeming to have missed the frightful display before them, the Commander climbs out on top of his spaceship, attaching a small hook to the line.

"Bring the AK-56's, Master Pilot. We do not know what is beyond."

"One day, I'll buy you something else than this kinetic crap."

"Stop whining and get up here."

Xrii follows behind, another wheeze of a sigh parted over the rudimentary comm channel built into their masks. Pressing the sturdy yet ancient firearms in his Commander's grubby arms, he too attaches a hook in preparation.

"I don't know about this, Commander. I didn't even have time to get a response. What if they're all dead?"

"Then we'll sell the ship for a spot of money."

"You mean -you- will."

"Just jump already, Master Pilot. This is a waste of my time."

With that, Xrii stepped off their own little craft, protected from gliding into space only by the heavy duty rope shot out against the derelict vessel.

No comments:

Post a Comment