DATE: 22nd October 2026
POSITION: Approach To Sun-Earth L2
SHIP: HMSS Comet
Commander: Keith Smith
MISSION: Scout Points L1 And L2 For RF and PRC Ships
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SENSOR WARNING – NEW CONTACT DESIGNATED SIERRA 1 – BEARING X021 Y340 56KM STATIONARY
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The alerts flashed on consoles across the CIC, a new contact flashing to life on the RADAR screen.
“Sir, unidentified contact designated Sierra one, bearing X021 by Y340 at 56KM, contact is stationary.”
Captain Keith Smith turned his head to sensors, locking eyes with the stone-faced man behind the console. Blue and green lights from his station cast lights across his face, like with everyone else’s in the grey and darkened CIC. “Do we have a signature match?” He asked.
The sensors officer shook his head, fiddling with the dials at his station, “Not yet sir, there are signals coming from it, but no friendly IFFs however. Current estimates put it at 10 thousand tons. Around the mass for a cruiser sir.”
Keith turned to his 2IC, the ever-weary Lieutenant Edward Fletcher, his pale skin acting like a projector screen for all of the readouts on the command desk as he looked up. “Lieutenant, assist in trying to figure out what’s sitting on the Lagrange point, helm, slow us down.”
“Aye sir.” They responded, the ship slowing down and his 2IC moving to lean over the sensors console, his eyes narrowing.
“Sir!”
Keith’s head whipped around, the light voiced communication’s officer’s voice calling out, her voice steady, “We are receiving a SOS on high band and the contact’s low band is sending a message straight to us.”
He nodded, “Put it on.”
A firm and deep voice crackled through the speakers with terrible quality, the transmission sounding like an old radio broadcast, “Внимание всем кораблям в радиусе действия. У нас неисправность реактора, пробита защита вокруг активной зоны, и реакция вышла из-под контроля. Нам нужна помощь.”
“Translation?”
The coms officer cleared her throat, “Attention all ships in range. We are suffering a reactor malfunction, the shielding around the core has been breached and the reaction is out of control. We need assistance.”
“Sir!” Edward’s voice called out, “Sierra one matches the signature of a Whisky class cruiser of the Russian Federation. We are also sensing a slight increase in radiation emanating from the ship along with what seems to be morse sent by an IR lamp. Story checks out it seems then.”
The captain’s gut churned, but he couldn’t help but be cautious. “Do you think they may be lying dead Lieutenant Fletcher? Trying to get us closer in so we can’t dodge any attacks?”
Edward’s eyes narrowed, “It is possible sir, but the radiation reading are real. Whisky class ships are theorised to have heavy radiation plating however, so they could have slapped some uranium onto their hull, but the application would still be dangerous.”
The captain turned to the helm, “Bring us in within thirty kilometres and see if we can see any exterior damage. Gunnery, keep those CWIS guns ready, however. And coms, send a hail over.”
A series of ayes and order confirmations followed as the Comet slowly started to edge closer, its frame creaking a little as thrusters fired.
The com’s officer kept a hand on their headphones, listening to the response. “They took a bit of a pause to answer but they are currently offering to surrender if we can evacuate their ship.”
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Keith’s eyes frowned, his head resting onto his chin. That confirmed that it was a series incident over there. But the Comet didn’t have anything to transfer crew over whatsoever other than a direct docking. That and there was only space and supplies for about ten more crew members if they rushed straight home to base…
Everyone in the CIC was looking at him now, expecting an answer. One that they all already knew. “We can’t take on the entire crew of a cruiser, life support can’t handle it, not to mention the dangers of a docking with a ship who’s reactor might blow.” He sighed, “Coms, send a message out to call for support.”
“And that’s days away sir!”
“Its better than leaving the crew to die, its our obligation. Send the message and let us pray that their ship holds together for a bit longer.”
The com’s officer nodded silently before looking back to their console.
“Fletcher?”
“Yes sir?”
“How heavy is our own ship’s shielding, can we get to them and dock while keeping our exposure low?”
Edward swallowed, “I was the chief engineer but I’m not a radiation specialist sir. But if I was to guess from the readings here, if we keep our time within ten kilometres of the thing to fifteen minutes, we would be safe. But- But can we make sure that we only take on ten men? Their vessel is in danger and basic survival instincts dictate that we might end up with a crowd crush to get onto our ship.”
“Not enough time to get any intelligence off of the ship then either?”
“Not at all if we’re going to stay safe.”
Keith nodded, “Then-“
A scream came from the com’s officer as they clutched their headphones, “THEIR REACTOR IS GOING INTO MELTDOWN!”
Everyone’s eyes whipped to the RADAR display by the command console, watching it as moments passed. Nothing happened, then.
“Sir!” The sensors officer yelled, “The cruiser is venting it’s fuel! We are also detecting a massive increase in radiatio- THE AFT HAS JUST EXPLODED! It’s venting steam and starting to roll!”
“The ship is demanding help immediately! It’s thrusters cannot stabilise itself and the entire engineering section has either vented into space or has been doused with radioactive material!”
“Sir! The radiation spike is massive! The crew of that cruiser have just taken deadly amounts of radiation! And if it doesn’t get it’s roll under control those G-forces can be equally as dangerous!”
Keith whipped his head around the CIC, everyone was either completely dumbfounded or in a state of mortified terror. The disaster unfurling in front of them far faster than any of them could react, all apart from one.
“Helm! Reverse thrust, pull us away!” Lieutenant Fletcher yelled, running to yank on the helmsman’s shoulder, throwing them out of their stupor as the ship suddenly yanked backwards, engines burning retrograde.
The shake knocked Keith out of his stupor at the same time as he suddenly realised what sort of issues a spray of contaminated water on the hull could cause. It was good fortune then that their destroyer had some heavy radiation shielding fitted onto the hull before they had left.
But it was no consolidation to the crew of the dying cruiser. The spin seemed to be slowing however, as the water was lost to space, and the thrusters fired at full power. The screams of the crew still emanating through the com’s officer’s headphones. Panicked yells from their com’s officer to help intermixed with interference from other departments using their radios to try and contact their bridge.
The same line being repeated over and over.
“Помогите помогите! Нам нужна помощь!”
“Pomogite pomogite! Nam nuzhna pomoshch!'”
“Help, help! We need Assistance!”
“Their high band is out sir!” The com’s officer cried out, fiddling with their console, “And their low band is starting to get weaker! They have to be losing power!”
“EM signatures confirm! They going to end up losing life support once the batteries they probably have run out!”
Edward stumbled backward, falling into his chair next to the captain’s, his eyes glazed over. “Two hundred men…”
“What?”
“Two hundred men…”
Keith whipped his head around, locking eyes with his 2IC, “Where!?”
“Aboard that ship… It’s the estimated crew of a Whisky class. Two hundred men.”
Keith collapsed back into his chair as well, his head cradled in his hands.
“Do you think we’ve been hit by a deadly amount of radiation then?”
The room fell silent once again.
“We did reverse out rather quickly after it’s explosion, but we need to check with the doctors before we can be sure, but I think we’re alright. Them though…”
Edward swallowed, unable to finish.
“Sir?” The coms officer again, “The cruiser is requesting assistance again. They say that they only have a day left of life support. W-What do we do?”
“Tell them this. I’m sorry, but we have no capabilities to rescue the crew. We don’t have the capabilities to support them, but help may be on the way and here within three days.”
Silence as the message was communicated across.
“A message from their captain. He’s dying, but he respects you preserving the life of your crew and takes you at your word that you cannot help. Only wishing that he could be on earth as he dies and that you should know the name of this ship is Slava and it’s crew will accept the night. As its what they deserve as soldiers and is where the great explorers of the future will lay as well.”
The coms officer’s hands shook as they finished translating, her eyes growing wet.
“And they’re singing.”
She flipped a button, as with the same terrible and uncanny audio quality the bridge crew of the doomed cruiser could be heard singing. A beautiful song. Their doomed final chant as they were left in their small, irradiated coffin for the rest of their short lives. Set against the black stary night, over a million kilometres from home.
“It’s the cliff…”
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REPORT:
WHISKY CLASS CRUISER UNSALVAGEABLE.
MELTDOWN OF PRESSURISED WATER REACTOR CAUSED IREPRIBLE DAMAGE AND CONTAMINATION TO THE VESSEL.
ALL CREW DECEASED.
CAUSE OF ACCIDENT IS UNDETERMINED, ASSUMED CAUSE IS POOR MAINTENANCE.
CREW OF COMET COMMENDED FOR ATTEMPTED RESCUE.