‘Unknown shuttle approaching.’
The computer voice over the intercom shook Captain Silas Prescott awake from his daze. After a 16-hour shift, he was more than ready to get some sleep.
“Repeat,” he ordered, looking to the other crew members around him in the command room.
“They are approaching fast,” one of the navigators said. “What the hell is that…?” The fear was evident in the man’s voice.
“Raise the shields and prepare for attack,” Silas barked, trying to remain calm. It was obvious that the other shuttle had no friendly intentions.
“Too late. They have immobilised our shields.”
“Incoming,” another man said over the intercom. “A large spaceship is heading straight for us.”
Shit. That wasn’t good. If he could see the enemy, they were already too close.
“Do you recognise the shuttle?”
“No, I’ve never seen those markings before.”
Silas suspected they were space pirates, but he didn’t want to say it out loud in case his men started to panic. They had all heard stories of how badly the pirates treated their victims. Unless they were sold as slaves to other races.
“Press the alarm and suit up. We’ll give them a warm welcome,” Silas said. In all his years in the Star Fleet, he had only been involved in a few combat situations. But never had the enemy been this close to his shuttle. He knew exactly what to do if needed. He looked over at the medical officer, Peter, and gave him a nod. Peter knew what it meant. If the worst was to come, his orders were to kill all of them before they were skinned alive or eaten by some alien monster. Silas had never believed it would come to this, but it paid off that he always prepared for the worst.
A loud bang told them the external hull had been breached. The enemy weapons had to be far more advanced than their own. It shouldn’t have happened this quickly.
“Head to your stations,” Silas shouted over the noise of alarms. “Protect the ship.” He knew that he had to appear calm despite the inner panic. His men would give up if they thought their captain had already given up the fight. It was his responsibility that his crew could survive and return to their families once this nightmare was over.
“Where’s the breach?” Silas asked the control.
“Lower deck. The hull area. And a second breach on the upper deck. Left department.”
“Right. Shoot to kill,” Silas ordered. “We’ll wipe the floor with these shitheads.”
A scream of terror was heard over the intercom, and Silas froze as he tried to figure out where the attackers had struck.
“The crew deck,” Jamie, one of the men manning the controls, said glumly.
“Close all the doors to the invaded compartments,” Silas ordered.
Jamie entered the commands. “No response. The system doesn’t follow any of our instructions.”
‘Command overruled.’ The metallic voice sounded eerily amongst the chaos.
“What the fuck? What’s going on?”
“Damn. Someone has taken control of our system. Even the master key is overruled.” Jamie’s voice showed frustration and despair despite his obvious efforts to remain in control.
“Air system? Gravity?” Silas asked. ‘Were they trying to kill all of them by removing their oxygen?’
“Normal levels. They even closed the gates to the passage that they breached.”
“Air breathers,” Silas said. At least they would still be able to breathe. “Pirates, probably.”
“I never thought pirates could overrule a Star Fleet system.”
At the same time, all the lights were switched off, and the room darkened. Only the green lights from their emergency system gave the room an eerily green colour.
“Damn,” Silas muttered. “Spread out and stay down. We might have visitors soon.”
All too soon, his predictions came true. With a large bang, the seal to the command room was breached, and several large creatures entered the room. Based on their outline, they appear to be humanoids. But their sizes were much too big to be space pirates.
“Fire,” Silas barked. Their railguns might not work against these creatures, but they had to try anyway.
It was like the metal projectiles only enraged the creatures even more. Silas heard the chilling sounds of his crew mates getting attacked. He knew he should stay low, but that wasn’t his style. He stepped toward the sound of an approaching alien and fired at close range. The creature yelled, sounding too much like a human.
“They are pirates. Only pirates,” Silas shouted, hoping it would give his men more courage that the creatures they were up against were still made of flesh and bones. But, at the same time, another alien approached in the darkness and grabbed Silas’s upper arm in a hard grip.
“Mine. This one is mine.”
The word sounded too much like English, but Silas knew that his translator had recognised it. How could this alien speak his language? Or had his translator picked up on a foreign language?
Silas aimed a stun gun toward the alien and pulled the trigger. It connected before bouncing off the alien suit. How was that possible? What sort of armour were the aliens wearing that could remove the effect of a stun gun up close? Silas pummelled him with his fists, only to be shoved against the wall while the alien’s large and dark body loomed over him.
Silas swallowed, knowing he would not survive this. The aliens were much too strong, and their advanced technology far outmanoeuvred theirs. In one last futile attempt, Silas lifted his right knee in a quick move, hoping the alien was just as sensitive in his nuts as a human male. But the suit protected him and made Silas grunt in pain as his knee was bounced down again.
“Silly human,” the alien said. It almost sounded as if he was laughing at Silas’ expense.
Silas knocked his head against him, but all he accomplished was to be flipped around and pushed face-first against the wall.
“Fight them,” Silas barked out just before the alien made a large tear in Silas’ skin suit. He felt the cold air against the naked skin on his back. Several screams were heard over his intercom coming from all of his crew members.
“Damn it,” he muttered, knowing they had lost the fight to a superior force.
He fought against the alien holding him until something resembling a needle broke his skin on his lower back. Drugs, he thought, just before his entire body turned slack. He would have fallen to the ground if the alien hadn’t wrapped his arms around his waist, holding him up. He was lifted, and the alien held him against the front of his suit.
Silas heard distant voices, but he couldn’t talk or move. What had he given him? Some sort of date drug?
“Return to ship,” the order sounded eerily familiar, but Silas couldn’t understand why the alien spoke English. They couldn’t. It was impossible. Unless they really were taken over by pirates.