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STARSHIP COMMANDER
Beyond the forward viewing port the stars stretched away into infinity, each one a tiny pinprick of warmth in the absolute zero of outer space. Inside the viewing port the Starship Command Centre was warm and cosy. Its lights were dimmed for night running and the main illumination came from the instrument panel which glowed with all the colours of the spectrum as displays shifted and swirled at the instruction of the Commander who sat relaxed at the controls.
Although time has no meaning in outer space, for convenience the Starship kept to Greenwich Mean Time and the digital clock in the bottom right of the display panel showed 01.05, five past one in the morning. The Starship was amazingly quiet for such a large craft travelling at light speed. The faint hum of the electrics and the occasional click and subdued roar of the powerful nuclear-plasma engine buried deep in the stern of the craft were almost the only sounds. Just audible above these was the strangely mundane and totally contrasting low-tech sound of a snore as the two passengers slept soundly in their cabin next to the Command Centre. The open bulkhead doors allowed the Commander to hear his passengers should they stir but they were unlikely to, he felt, after such a full day.
Suddenly the Commander noticed bright lights approaching his craft through the viewing port. Leaning forward, he identified it as a freighter in-bound towards Earth and not a threat. He relaxed once more.
Idly flexing the right–handed remote activator, he saw on the instrument panel early warning of an approaching alien swarm, still many light years away, but a potential threat to him and to Earth. His sealed instructions were clear:
“Commanders are military personnel even if in charge of civilian craft. They must follow military objectives and are without question to engage and destroy alien swarms if encountered.”
The Commander unconsciously straightened in his seat. He adjusted the night scope and gun sights on his electron blaster and aimed at the fast approaching swarms. His fingers worked the triggers and he saw blast after blast streaking towards the aliens which ducked and dived out of the way. Too late, he realised he had not chosen his artillery nor even ensured that his ammunition magazines were full. But there was no time to worry about that. Still they came, now screaming so loudly that, even across the vacuum of space, he felt he could hear them and turned down the volume on his audio communicator.
Even this slight distraction was nearly too much as a clump of aliens rushed towards him seeking to overcome the ship with force of numbers regardless of the cost to themselves. His guns chattered and he wished he had taken the time to load his heat seeking rockets and radar guided space torpedoes but it was too late now.
His eyes began to blur as, peering intently at the range finder screen, he saw that they were becoming more cunning, learning his tactics and trying to evade his fire by craftily changing course at the last moment. His hands sweated as he thought to himself that he was the only one standing between them and Earth and that he must not fail.
An inter-galactic cloud of stellar dust swirled between him and the swarms causing a momentary loss of vision. As it cleared he saw they had gathered together for one last assault. Taking a deliberate decision to risk being overcome whilst reloading, the Commander turned his attention to his armaments, disengaging the guns and arming a multi megaton neutron bomb which could devastate the alien swarm but leave no physical debris to hinder the progress of the Starship. Too late, the swarms had launched themselves and were almost on top of the ship! In a reflex action, the Commander pushed the detonation button and sat back, watching the radar screen rock and tremble as the blast, too near for safety, caused the Starship to tumble as the navigation giros fought to maintain a steady course and attitude.
Phew! The screen cleared and reported that all aliens had been destroyed. The ship was back on track and the Commander’s bold move had worked. Amazingly, the sound of light snoring could still be heard as the passengers slept on unaware of the drama of the battle and the fate so narrowly avoided.
I must report in, thought the Commander. His hands deftly operated the switches to open the secure communication channel with Earth.
He called-up the address of the comms centre he needed and then hesitated over the message. Finally he typed:
“Alien swarm encountered near the asteroid belt completely destroyed. Neutron bomb successful. Mission back on course. Commander.”
He left the comms port open as he exited the Command Centre, went along the elevated walkway and climbed down the companionway to the galley where he opened the hatch of the cryogenic facility to get a can of cola. He felt he deserved that after the heat of battle.
When he returned to the Command Centre, very quietly so as not to disturb his passengers, he noticed there was a message just received. He opened it and read:
“Toby. I’m glad you like the Aliens game we sent you but what time is it there? It’s already noon Boxing Day here in Oz so it must be very early morning in the UK. Do Mum and Dad know you’re up still playing with your computer? Get to bed!! Or I’ll tell them next time we speak. Sorry couldn’t be with you for Xmas but next year, promise. Luv from your older sister Jan (and Larry and baby Jo Jo, too).
PS. I meant what I said. Bed, NOW!”
The Commander sighed but put the cursor on the ‘turn off computer’ menu and, as the screen faded, reverted to being plain 8 years old Toby once again. The viewing port became the bedroom window, the bulkhead was the wall with his star charts and solar system pictures and the plasma engine became the central heating boiler.
As sleep came he vaguely day dreamed of a real Starship which he could pilot to Australia to visit Jan and take his Mum and Dad, too. They…. would….. be…… so………pleased (yawn).
THE END
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