Issue #168 : Incursions
Cooper leaned forward in his seat and nodded towards the bartender for another. The glass came sliding down at him, the alcohol already starting to mist up out of the fluid. He leaned over and breathed in the vapors. His head began to swim immediately as he drained the glass. The floor underneath him pitched and at first he took it for the rapid effects of the alcohol but soon realized that the ship had changed course.
He still felt unsteady as he pushed back from the bar. Using the excuse of slamming a coin down the counter, he leaned on it for support until the dizziness passed. He tugged on his jacket to straighten it and walked out into the corridor.
Everyone he passed knew full well how drunk he was, there was no attempt to hide it. Still, he appreciated the ability to put on a somewhat stoic face as he passed on his way to the control room. He could also see that no one really cared. It wasn’t like the crew of a sanctioned freighter. This was mostly smugglers looking out for their own bottom lines. He didn’t even want to guess how many “under the table” shipments were piggybacking along with the normal freight. He ignored their deals on the side and they ignored his less-than-professional habits.
“What the hell is going on?” He asked as he yanked open the door to control. The pilot barely looked up.
“Heavy energy readings up ahead. Could be another border skirmish. If it is, I just want to keep us clear for when the Trans-Union ships show up to clean up the mess.”
“Okay, but we’re nowhere near—” he cut himself off, already sensing the man’s irritation, even with his back turned. Some fights just weren’t worth having. He glanced at the screen near him and verified that they would still arrive ahead of schedule. Still, he had to say something. “Increase speed ten percent to make up for the correction.”
Cooper sat down, looking around for the coffee that wasn’t there. For at least the tenth time on this run, he wondered again if he could tolerate the increase in his cost to actually have a crew that would do things for him.
The deck under his feet began to vibrate, possibly suggesting a problem but more than likely the pilot had simply taken his time in actually following instructions. It was a horrible excuse for an existence but it was also the only option he really had.
As he thought this, his eyes started to droop, the edges of sleep working its way into his train of thought. No one would care if he shut down for a while.
Still, it was as if all eyes suddenly were focused on him, searing out at him silently, out of spite and judgment. The thought made him squirm as he reached up for his battered, oil-stained hat and pulled it down over his eyes. What did he care what people thought about him? He made sure they got their payday. The ship was its own little ecosystem of self-interest. Who was he to stand in the way?
He was on the verge of sleep when he felt the presence behind him. It was as if someone had sneaked up on him and was about to lean down over the chair. Cooper jumped and spun around to lash out at whoever had bothered him.
No one was there.
The lights flickered above him, as if there was some kind of a power surge. He turned to ask the pilot what had happened but was distracted by the view screen, also flickering on and off. What he could see between flashes was a field devoid of stars, nothing but pitch black sprawling away from them.
“Where the hell are we?” He asked.
He received no response from the crew. The pilot sat without moving, his back turned indifferently to Cooper. It wasn’t the first time he had seen a certain level of rebellious attitude from them but this situation could be dangerous. He strode over and spun him around in his chair.
Cooper jumped back, tripping over his own feet and toppling over backwards in the process. His pilot sat there, rigid in the chair. The slackened expression on his face had been permanently etched there, his mouth and eyes replaced by gaping, cavernous holes.
“What the Christ?” Cooper rushed back, tripping over a console in the process. From the floor, he looked around at the crew and saw the same thing on every face.
Pressing down he pushed off, trying to stand, but his hands slipped out from underneath him. No, they didn’t slip. Something had struck him, knocking his arms out before he could rise. Still, he saw no one else around him.
“You were warned.” A deeply resonant voice uttered from around him.
“What?” He yelled. Sweat flung from the strands of his hair as he whipped his head around, trying to see who had spoken. “Who’s there?”
“You were told not to intrude into this vector space. You were warned of the consequences.”
“Wait, what the hell are you talking about? Who are you?”
“The first stage was the warning. The second stage is to demonstrate the consequences for failing to heed our warning.”
“Wait, please I don’t know anything about… Please don’t hurt me, you can’t—”
“You will be returned to your people as a cautionary tale.”
Cooper felt his body tense as one of the view screens came to life, playing what looked like surveillance footage of his control room. Someone darted from station to station, killing the men who happened to be there. Cooper struggled to his knees and crawled to the terminal, beginning to cry as he recognized the killer.
Feeling his hands trembling, Cooper looked down and saw that somehow they had become coated with blood. He shook his head. This couldn’t be real, couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t possible.
The deck pitched underneath him as the ship started to change course and pick up speed. Looking back to one of the panels, he saw the body of his dead pilot, animated as if attached to puppet strings. The arms and hands were manipulating the controls, limbs pulled jerkily by some unseen force, driving the ship away from whatever they had been approaching.
Cooper collapsed into the chair that he had forgotten was behind him. Fingers he couldn’t see pressed down, pushing harder until he started to worry about his bones breaking. The ship throttled again, causing the star-field to go streaky before them as they went. He felt the skin on his face stretching back against his skull and took a tighter hold on the armrests, the whole time feeling like his entire body was melting.
* * *
“Was the captain ever located?”
“No. There were some remains that we couldn’t identify, but otherwise he hasn’t been found among the dead.”
The director frowned as he leaned over the monitor to watch the footage again. The unmistakable figure of the captain moved slowly from crew-member to crew-member, killing them each methodically.
“Why wasn’t there any resistance?” One of the deputies asked. “They just sat there.”
“No idea.” The director paused the playback and zoomed in on the wall which Cooper had been writing on, seemingly in someone’s blood.
“What does it say?” the deputy asked.
“Stay away. There will be no further warnings.” The director shook his head. Wherever Cooper was, he needed to be brought in. “The guy has got to be out there somewhere,” he said. “We can’t let this go unanswered.” He picked up a nearby clipboard and scanned it down the list.
“Get a crew scrambled and pick a ship. I want our people back out there.”
