LV-447
Weyland-Yutani Seismic Monitoring Outpost 4785329[23]
‘Heaven Station’
MU/TH/ER ALERT
*********************
TIME: 0344
DAY: 01 MONTH: 02 YEAR: 2125
*********************
DISTRESS SIGNAL CLASS II DETECTED
COMMUNICATION REPEATER BRAVO
SOURCE
*********************
USCSS RELIANT
[TYPE: DEEP SPACE RECON]
[MODEL: CM-27 CAPTAIN COOK]
[CLASS: C-CLASS]
[REG: 2290488(77)]
[STATUS: ACTIVE]
*********************
MESSAGE BEGIN
[CONTENT-TYPE: SIGNED]
[TRANSFER ENCODING: BASE64]
AUDIO: NONE
TEXT: STANDARD DISTRESS
NO SUPPLEMENTAL CONTENT
MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY
USCSS RELIANT
TWELVE SOULS ON BOARD
HULL BREACH REPEAT HULL BREACH
EIGHT CASUALTIES
INBOUND TO FRONTIER
USCSS RELIANT
MESSAGE END
*********************
“We sure this is legit?” asked the night shift manager. She was leaning just over the comm tech’s shoulder, bleary eyes trying to focus on the data scrolling across the screen.
He nodded. “It’s legit. I mean, it’s kind of odd that there’s no additional audio with it other than the standard SOS code, but that’s not unheard of.”
She rubbed the fatigue from her face. “And it’s entering orbit?”
“Yeah, looks like it’ll insert in about an hour. They’re braking hard. Were coming in hot, like real hot. They’ll be in range of the Bravo repeater for another…23 minutes then they’ll go dark as they transit the far side. We’ll pick them back up in about four hours on Alpha.”
She nodded. “Can you hail them?”
“Been trying. No response.”
She frowned. “Nothing at all?”
“Nope. Just the Mayday.”
One of the geologists wandered into the comms shack, steaming cup of coffee in his hand, and pulled up short when they turned to look at him. “What?”
“Picked up a distress signal,” said the comms tech.
“Are you shitting me?” He stepped up behind the man and bent over his other shoulder. “Who is it? What kind of ship?”
“USCSS Reliant. Deep space recon vessel.” The comms tech shifted over slightly and started typing on a second keyboard, bringing a separate screen to life. The green monitor filled with more data. “Crew of 12. Fast. Atmospheric capable. Stuffed full of science shit.” He pushed back from the screen. “Said they had a hull breach.”
“Not good.”
“Not at all,” said the shift manager. “Can’t pick them up on a hail either.”
“How’d they get here?”
“Could be ARC. Automated Return Course,” said the comms tech. “If a crew is incapacitated the ship can fire off the distress beacon and then it’ll head back to the frontier at best possible speed, try to find the closest ship…or station.”
The geologist snorted. “We’re hardly a station. Shit, we’re not even the frontier.”
“No, but we’re here, we have air, food. Better than floating around with a hole in your hull.”
The geologist nodded. “Can’t argue that.”
The shift manager took a swallow from her own mug and grimaced. “God this coffee is shit.” She patted the comms tech on the shoulder. “Keep up the hail until we lose them. I’ll rouse the Boss, see what she wants to do.”
“Can we do anything?” asked the geologist.
“We’ve got the Mule,” said the comms tech. “It’s orbital capable. Go up and bring down the crew.”
“Thought you said no one was answering your hail?”
The comms tech nodded. “Doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Said there’s twelve on board and eight casualties. Somebody’s gotta be alive.”
“Yeah…but…”
“Probably cryo,” said the shift manager. “Hull breach, hard to conserve oh-two, put everybody in and ride it out until someone finds you.”
The geologist frowned. “Or you find someone.”
“Yeah, that too,” said the shift manager. “That too.”
Hosted and narrated by:
Scott (ScottH)
Started 07/23/22.
Scenes played: 1
License: Community License
18+
