Written for Vista Magazine.
There is little sound save the rumbling of the ship, footsteps clatter down empty metal hallways. Bean-shaped crew bustle left and right, conducting a flurry of simple maintenance. The long corridors of the ship cast even longer shadows. A bright red, industrious crew member is alone, in empty rooms surrounded by even emptier space. They turn a corner to find the mangled remains of their friend and crew mate, oozing blood in the dimly lit Navigation room. They pull their radio, shout a panicked emergency call.
The crew meets in the cafeteria, tense stares across a large table, one space in the circle conspicuously open. Red opens up, “Something killed Cyan. I found her body in Security, by the computer.” The table finds an uneasy silence as everyone takes this in.