I have been working on a sci-fi, something along the lines of star trek. Anyway, Time is tight, and I thought I would post a rough draft of the story so far.
Suddenly, like missing the last step on the stairway, the blaring alarm disappears, and the bridge falls into a void of silence. All the lights fade to black—a complete power loss—and the ever present static of my earpiece fails. My mind replays and replays it, the last message that had come over the channel, making sure I remember the precise words.
“What was that,” a voice cuts through the darkness. The void provides no answer. “Somebody talk to me,” the captain commands.
I blurt, “There was a message, Captain, right before we were hit.” The weight of the crew seems to fall on me as I take a breath. In a more measured tone I continue, “It came over an old channel, like fifty years old. It said, ‘Look for me in the sunrise,’ sir.”
“Do we have eyes?” asks the captain.
“Negative, not without power,” someone answers, “beta-class ships are not equipped with any, well, portholes, Sir.”
Windows, I think, not a single window in the entire bloody ship.
“Get me engineering.”
“All communications are down, Sir”
A fifty year old signal from an undiscovered planet, I wonder as disembodied commands fly overhead. Suddenly the familiar static returns as a red glow illuminates my station, reserve power, it’s something. There on my screen is the transcribed enigma. I request information from the computer regarding code b-74. My intercom buzzes to life:
The b-class code was first used in military vessels of the Carpiterm Coalition. Readily disguised in background static, the code served as a way to communicate with insurgent spies during the Carpiterm civil war. During peace talks, the rebels would pass information to high level infiltrators…
In a few keystrokes I interrupt the computer and ask for b-74 directly:
The b-74 subclass code was used during the end of the insurgency. It referenced a nursery rhyme from the old tongue and warned spies that their ships were targeted.
I ask the computer for the rhyme, and it starts the translation:
Mother is dead—
“Ensign! What do you have on that code,” the captain shouts.
“Carpiterm, civil war era. It signifies an imminent attack. Sir.”
“Do we have shields?”
I return to the computer:
Mother is dead tonight young one
And I must go to see her
You won’t find us in darkness
Look for me in the sunrise
“Sir, we have visual.”
I turn to the main monitor.