Anagha Baheti

“SS102 come in…. SS102 come in….” I frantically grabbed the mic after that blood curdling scream.

Static.

“SS102, set your headlights to blinker mode if your radar is broken. It is imperative that you confirm your status.”

No blinking.

I knew what I had to do. I ran out of the office, and I kept running until I found her.

“Madam President, this is urgent.” She froze. The look on her face told me she understood what I was about to say, but protocol dictated I spell it out.

“Madam President, starship SS102 has been non responsive for the last two minutes. The last communication was a scream. Madam President, I think SS102 has been compromised. Requesting a course of action.”

“How much time do we have?”

“Eight, maybe nine minutes.”

“Get me the heads of Food, Water, and Electrical departments, now.” She barked at her secretary. The poor girl, barely older than nineteen, scrambled away to arrange the conference call. She had been working at the office for seven months now. Every time she saw me in the hallway, she would give me the sweetest smile. She was the opposite of the president.

If anybody had seen the old woman smile, they had long been dead. Frown lines hung on her brown skin, and her black hair would always be tied up tightly in a bun. Her wardrobe was muted, but she did have a pink dress for special occasions.

The secretary came back, and the president asked me to join her. The three heads waited for us in the conference room, along with the vice president and secretary of the colony.

“Gentlemen, let’s work fast here. How long would our supplies last us?”

“Food, five weeks.”

“Water, three months.”

“Fuel, two months.”

“We have reason to believe that our last starship has been compromised. All in favor of destroying the ship, please raise hands.”

Five hands went up, including my own.

“Secretary Wilson, do you have an alternate suggestion?”

“Yes, Madam President. Commander, could we manipulate the course of the ship from the base?”

“Yes, Secretary Wilson.” I looked at the clock. Six minutes.

“Madam President, could we alter the course of the ship to prevent it from landing at base until we can confirm that the intruder is dead?”

The president looked at me expectantly.

“Madam President, allow me to brief you of the potential risks. First, if the ship runs out of fuel, there is a real chance it could crash into the base. Second, if the ship gets thrown too far out of orbit, it would be difficult to track its exact course, so it might become a problem at later stage. Third, we have no idea of the life expectancy of the intruder.”

“True, but Commander, that is our last ship. How do you propose we get supplies without it?”

“Not my place to answer, Secretary Wilson.”

“Commander, Is there any chance there isn’t an intruder on the ship?” The president asked. I shook my head. “Well then, you know what to do. Commander, I hereby authorize you to destroy the ship.” Three minutes.

I ran back to my station, and flipped a bunch of buttons. Sweat trickled down my forehead and collected in my eyebrow. I was working on autopilot. I waited for the automated targeting system to lock on the ship. As soon as the lock turned green, I let the missile fly. It hit the fuel tank and both exploded on impact. “Target neutralized” I radioed the president.

I saw the explosion slowly dissipate into the atmosphere through my screen for about an hour. I had never been afraid of death, but as I stared into its eyes, I found myself begging to live.