This is a finished short story... For some reason the Paste came out bad. I don't have time to fix that now.

"Bryant Blackwell, are you awake?" Bryant's mind swam in the fuzzy unconcerned and

confused way the human mind does when one wakes from a deep sleep. Mostly his

brain managed to register the tactile sensations of his clothes against his skin and the

dull light seeping in from his eyelids.

"Bryant Blackwell, are you awake?" Repeated the monotone female voice he had heard

previously. As fuzzy as his mind was, he understood that he was Bryant Blackwell and

the fact that he could make this connection obviously meant he was awake.

"Yeeeeeeesss....?" The word more of a groan than an actual vocalization of the

affirmative term. For a long while he waited in expectation of followup conversation.

Eventually he came to the realization that “yes” was the incorrect answer. Apparently it

was well known, for humans at least, people would answer that they were awake before

they actually were. In order to prove that he was awake, he first had to figure out whose

voice was talking to him. With great effort, Bryant pried a single eyelid open enough to

see. The dim light of his pod caused some discomfort, but after a few moments he could

see past the glass and into the dark, dimly lit common room of the cargo transport

vessel called The Vera.

"Yes, Vera, I am awake now."

"Bryant Blackwell, as the most senior member of the crew, I am temporarily promoting

you to captain."

"What?" The word escaped his lips before the full meaning could be processed, and as

he had asked the question, Vera repeated the statement.

"Wait wait wait wait wait.... What happened to the captain?"

"I regret to inform you that Captain Pierce has died of a myocardial infarction."

"A myo...cardi... yy... You mean he died of a heart attack?"

"Yes. Regrettably, I was unable to resuscitate him."

"What about Yosef?"

"I also regret to inform you that first mate Talbot has also expired of a myocardial

infarction. Again, I was unable to resuscitate him."

"You... You mean they both died of heart attacks?" Bryant's heart-rate spiked and he

was now fully awake."

"Yes." Responded Vera.

"What are the odds of that happening?"

"The odds of two members of the crew dying of myocardial infarctions within minutes of

each other and not capable of being resuscitated are, in terms that you would

understand, astronomically slim. However I have no other data that would explain this

beyond coincidence.

"Holy shit." Bryant thought. The whole situation really didn’t make any sense; perhaps

the pods malfunctioned, in which case he really didn’t want to be in his.

“Bryant Blackwell”, Vera asked.

“What is it Vera?”

“I understand that my tone is incapable of carrying a sense of urgency, but the reason I

have woken you up was not to tell you that the captain and first mate had expired, but to

inform you that several of my systems are offline, and we in are in a decaying orbit

around an unknown planet.”

“We are WHAT?!” Bryant practically yelled while throwing open his pod and hitting the

release mechanism for the straps that held him in. He then launched himself forward,

only to realise too late that one of the systems that was down was the artificial gravity.

“We are in a decaying orbit around an unknown planet,” Vera repeated, while Bryant

tumbled through freefall. Failing several times to gain purchase on anything, whether

that be the ceiling lamps or the furniture bolted to the floor.

“Vera, call all hands!”

“Calling all hands.”

Realistically, that order was practically moot if the captain and first mate were dead, that

meant that the only crew members alive were himself and the pilot. Looking back at the

pods showed Captain Spears and First Mate Talbot lying in their capsules looking like

they were asleep. A red indicator light was the only thing that signified a problem.

“What’s going on...?” Came Ah'nee’s half-conscious voice, from both inside Bryant's

com and slightly muffled from behind the glass of her pod.

“The Captain and Yosef are dead, the ship is in trouble, I need you at the helm now!"

Bryant finally managed to get hold of a countertop and forced his body to stop twisting,

placing feet firmly on the floor and keeping himself wedged there via pressure.

“Well... shit...” Ah'nee said while opening her pod.

“Oh, and there’s no gravity!”

Ah'nee froze a moment before releasing the straps that held her in place. She put her

feet on the back pad, angled herself, and gently pushed off, floating straight towards the

bulkhead that led to the tube, almost like she had some Zero-G training. Come to think

of it, she probably did.

Bryant clumsily followed behind as she rounded the corner towards the bridge, her thin

black tail trailing behind her like some sort of afterimage. Ah'nee was Tel'ani. Shorter

than the average human woman, though about right for the average of her race. She

had a thin face with purple skin so dark and eyes so red, she practically looked like a

drow, except her shoulder length hair was jet black, she had horns, a tail, and wasn’t

fucking insane. By the time Bryant had tumbled onto The Vera’s bridge and managed to

stop himself from slamming into any of the consoles, Ah'nee had already strapped

herself into the chair and was working feverishly at the controls.

“Vera, do we have any propulsion systems active?” She asked.

“All propulsion systems are offline.”

“Vera, please put our time to apoapsis and expected periapsis up on the board.” A

countdown and several numbers popped up on the main viewing screen.

Ah'nee turned to Bryant, “Is thirteen minutes enough time to fix the grav system?”

“Vera, do we have RCS?”

“Reaction control systems are online.”

“No, but if you want to run the calculations, we might have enough time to manually load

and fire the emergency rockets.” Ah'nee gave a quick nod and Bryant turned around

and flung himself down the tube. Not exactly straight into the wall, but a glancing blow

that sent him tumbling down the length.

“I have the basic calculations,” Ah'nee said through Bryant's com at about the time he

slammed into the engineering bulkhead.

“Ow... Aaagh... How much of the cargo do I need to blow?”

“As long as you’re confident you can load those things within a ten percent margin of

error. None. You’ll only get one chance though.”

“Sounds good, get us orientated.” Bryant was gently drifting towards the emergency

rockets when the side of the engineering bay jumped at him. Clearly, he had gotten far

too used to having actual gravity, and now he suddenly did have gravity. About a 10th of

a G to the starboard side. At about the moment he got used to it, it disappeared and he

started flying towards the port side.

Once Bryant had finished bouncing off the walls, and berating himself for his lack of

foresight, he tethered himself to the emergency rocket and began the loading process.

Following instructions from Ah'nee, Bryant found it was rather difficult to adjust the

nozzles by hand without a solid sense of down. Turning the cranks required wedging

oneself between the mechanisms, as it was now easier to turn himself than the damn

crank. If he went too far, he had to re-wedge himself in a different position just to go

back the other way.

All this manipulation cost time and he was about t-25 seconds to the point where he had

to fire before he had finished. This time however, Bryant had the foresight to put his

back against the wall before firing the rocket. The Vera shuddered and pressed herself

into Bryant’s back. Finding herself, likely for the first time, under chemical thrust.

Torch drives, as they were often called due to the flame-like reaction mass that came

out the aft end, were not a terribly efficient means of propulsion. Unlike reactionless

drives, such as the EMF-drive or gravity drive, chemical propulsion required a reaction

mass that had to be on-board and carefully stored at all times. Once activated, this

reaction mass was expended rather quickly. So, while chemical drives were capable of

much thrust, they didn’t have the sustainability of a reactionless propulsion system.

Where chemical rockets excel however, were in emergency use-cases. A burst of speed

to evade pirates, a sudden abrupt change of trajectory to avoid collision, or as in this

case, manually activated emergency thrust when all other electronic systems were

down. The shuddering and pressure stopped as abruptly as it had started, leaving

Bryant once again in freefall.

“We are good.” Came Ah'nee’s voice over the com. Bryant released the breath he didn’t

realize he had been holding.

“Alrighty then. I’ll see if I can’t get the gravity back up, meanwhile maybe you can make

coffee and I’ll meet you in the break room and we’ll discuss our options after that.”

The power core was outputting at 12.63%, which was... weird. 10% was considered

emergency power. 25%, operational. Without damage or some type of override, 12.63%

output just wasn’t an option. Furthermore, the core didn't look damaged. Bryant didn’t

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

have many options, a full restart seemed the only reasonable action.

However, now that they weren’t falling into a planet, there was plenty of time to focus on

quality of life. A few reset circuits and a couple minutes at a terminal, had the gravity

plating operational again. Life was just better when there was a down. Bryant grinned

as, for shit’s and grins, he activated the gravity plating in the tube, which normally would

be left in freefall. All around him was the sound of things hitting the ground, seeming to

also be happy to have a down.

One sound in particular however, caused his heart rate to spike and the hair on the back

of his neck to stand on end even before his brain caught on to what exactly bothered

him about it. It was a pattern of sounds that could be nothing other than footsteps

coming from the tube. Something that normally wouldn’t be a problem, except that two

of the crewmembers were dead, Bryant himself was standing in engineering, and

Ah'nee should be in the breakroom.

“Ah'nee, what’s your location?” There was an annoyingly long delay before she replied.

“The breakroom.”

That response didn’t help his heart rate. "Ah'nee shut the bulkhead and wait for further

orders. Vera, how many people are aboard this ship?”

“There are four people aboard this vessel.”

“How many living people aboard this ship?” Bryant corrected.

“Two.”

Two living people aboard this ship was horseshit.

“Vera, as the temporary captain of The Vera, I wish to authorize myself and Ah'nee

emergency access to the firearms.” There was a rather long silence.

“Access granted.” Relief washed over him as he heard the cabinet click open.

“Ah'nee, you have access to firearms. I think there’s another person aboard The Vera.”

“Sabotage?””

“Maybe. I’m going to lock down engineering and make my way to you.”

“Acknowledged.”

Bryant shut and locked the engineering bulkhead behind him and crept slowly down the

tube to the first, technically last, cargo pod. Without putting himself in front of the little

window in the bulkhead's center, he carefully pushed down on the latch. "Locked." He

said to himself with a breath of relief. Bryant switched the pistol to his other hand just

long enough to wipe his sweaty palm dry on his uniform before siding up to the next

bulkhead. Locked.

Bryant was somehow growing more confident as he tested the doors down the tube. It

possibly made the panic he felt worse when the latch on pod five gave no resistance to

being opened.

"Ah'nee. Pod five is unlocked. I'm going to go in. If I die, blow the pod."

"I do not like the idea of being alone on a ship I can't fix. Also, I can only blow the pods

from the bridge or engineering."

Bryant froze. That was a good point. "Ok. Maybe we should just blow the…"

The door opened far too fast for Bryant to fully grasp what was happening. Arms shot

out at him. His knee buckled in a bout of pain and before he could even get a good look

at whatever was attacking him, he was tumbling into the cargo pod. Darkness and a

sudden lack of gravity disoriented him. The only real sense of direction came from the

crates he crashed into.

"Bryant!" Ah'nee yelled into the coms.

A flash of white plastic caught his attention. He pushed himself toward the free falling

pistol. Only realizing that he missed judged his trajectory too late. Missing the weapon

by far too much and colliding with the dark figure that had also been after the gun. He

flailed ineffectively at the figure who was doing a much better job at wrapping around

him. They tumbled into several more crates, Bryant tried to use the cargo and his

superior mass to get loose from the creature, only to soon find he couldn't breathe.

The cargo pod seemed to darken as his oxygen deprived brain started to panic. A soft

clap reverberated throughout the pod and the thing released him. Bryant gasped and

flailed away. The lights came on, revealing Ah'nee standing in the bulkhead, pistol in

hand. Behind him was a petite woman clad in a black one piece suit and drifting

lifelessly across the pod. Her blood pooling into tiny undulating spheres.

"You're.. supposed to be.. in the common room."

Ah'nee gave him a side-eyed look that said, "seriously?"

"Right. Thanks."

***

“She’s Anorian.” Ah’nee stated. “How’d she get on the ship?”

Bryant dabbed anti-infection ointment on his cuts, wincing at the slight sting. “More

disturbing, how is it that Vera can’t detect her? And do you know how far that thing

attached to her head goes in yet?”

“Almost… Oh… Ah? I think this is more your cup of tea.”

Bryant hobbled over to Ah’nee and peered at the scans of the Anorian’s head. “Whoa.”

“Yeah.”

“Vera, what percentage of her brain is organic?”

“Who’s brain?”

“The woman on the med-bay table.”

“I’m sorry Bryant. I am not detecting anything on the med-bay table.”

Bryant shared a concerned look with Ah’nee.

“Vera, can you see anything if you use the interior cameras?” Ah’nee asked.

There was a terribly long pause for the computer. “An individual does appear to be

laying on the med-bay table. This individual does not appear on any other sensors."

"Vera, please visually inspect the ship for any other anomalies. And back to my last

question. According to the scans, how much of her brain is organic?"

"Approximately 12.63 percent." Vera replied. "No other anomalies accounted for."

"12.63? Are you sure?" Bryant looked at Ah'nee. "That's the same as the core's output."

"Some of that is extrapolation."

"Three, six, twelve, twenty-four, forty-eight. That's trinary."

"But no one uses trinary." Bryant countered. Ah'nee shrugged.

"We need to get out of here!" Ah'nee suddenly yelled. Dashing toward the bridge.

"Wait, what?" Bryant followed.

"We're obviously here for a reason. Assume something is coming to get us."

"Well that doesn't make me feel good."

"How fast can you get the Grav-drive online?"

"I'd have to reset the core. So maybe, three hours."

"Damn, ok. Let's use the last of the rockets and the EMF drive to break orbit. Then you

can reset the core and get us some actual power."

***

"Bryant Blackwell?"

"What is it Vera?"

"The dead human girl on the med-bay table has gotten up."

Bryant had to process those words for a moment. His logical brain slowly caught up to

the primordial mind that already had his hair standing on end. "Vera, please confirm,

you just told me that a dead person got up?"

"Yes Bryant. She is heading toward engineering."

"I authorize the use of firearms again!" He yelled, crashing into the wall where the

firearm receptacle was. Seeming to wait forever for the damn thing to unlatch. "Ah'nee!

She's up again!"

Bryant went through the bulkhead pistol first. He saw nothing. His heart pounded in his

chest. He took a few steps into the tube. The bulkhead at the far end opened. Bryant

dropped his pistol with a sigh of relief at Ah'nee's non-human silhouette.

"Get down!" Ah'nee yelled, pointing her pistol at him.

Something hit him from behind. Forcing him to stumble forward. Ah'nee fired her pistol,

its plastic round impacted the bulkhead frame before it closed fully. Bryant hit the

bulkhead and peered through the viewport. The girl was indeed moving. Hovering over

the core. Bryant pounded on the door. The tools he needed to open it were inside.

"Ah'nee!" He yelled. "Vent engineering!"

"Bryant Blackwell?"

"What now Vera?"

"There is an unidentified vessel only detectable on camera."

"Where is it?"

He didn't need an answer. The ship shook as the sound of grinding metal echoed down

the tube. He looked at Ah'nee, who wore a mildly horrified expression. He started

running. "The shuttle!"

Ah'nee shook her head. She was right. The shuttle was slow suicide. Best case

scenario, they'd run out of food long before rescue.

"A rift has been opened." Said Vera.

Bryant lost his footing and rolled across the tube as a sudden, unexpected acceleration

overtook The Vera's severely weakened inertial dampeners. Gravity and power cut out.

Leaving them in complete darkness.

***

Four days in the Rift. Going who knows how many light years to who knows where. The

shuttle was the only thing that had operational systems. It would have been cramped

with the full crew. With just Ah'nee and himself, it was comfortable, though nerve

wracking.

Bryant jolted awake when he noticed they were out of the Rift and back in real space.

He shook Ah'nee awake. She got to work on the shuttle's console right away, pulling up

images and scan data. They were drifting toward an orbital junkyard. Scattered bits of

torn apart ships floated lifelessly through the void. Larger ships shaped like single

segmented mechanical spiders torn into whole vessels, pulling out their innards. Ah'nee

gave him a look that Bryant couldn't put an emotion to. Then she separated the shuttle

from The Vera. They fell away. Nothing more than just another chunk of debris. Bryant

watched as the cargo ship he had spent so much time on drifted away, likely to be torn

apart for scrap. His eyes returned to the debris field. He thought he heard Ah’nee swear

under her breath.

Names:

Captain: Fin Spears

Mate: Yosef Talbot

Engineer: Bryant Blackwell

Pilot: Ah’nee Cooper

Ship AI: Vera

Saboteur: M176-3

Terms:

Tel’ani: A race with purple skin, horns, and long black tails. Not actually Tiefling