06/07/2026
I have had fun with July Plot Twist. I get to do this once a month with Written Off's Matthew Farmer. It is a huge amount of fun for me as a writer and this one, especially so. It was Sci-Fi based! I'm going to share it with you. I do think I can expand on this one!
“Commander, respectfully…” I said, trying very hard to put the tone of respect into my voice. Rather than the immense amount of irritation that I was feeling after listening to the man rabbit on for the last ten minutes about the reasons I could not take the shuttle and investigate the signal that we had been receiving for the last five hours. I was the best pilot aboard, after all. The very best. A fact I had proved time and time again.
I am Captain Siobhan Murphy of the 41st Deep Space Regiment, assigned to the Explorer RN Majestic. My crewmates and I — I do count the Commander as a crewmate, though with some level of deference — have been aboard our ship for the past three years, exploring a region of space that is relatively new to our map.
Let me explain that a little more clearly. This is the 24th Century and we, as a race, have been exploring the near universe for the past hundred years. We have mapped the universe for a much longer time than that. Since the early 21st Century to be precise. A time when we got our first really useful telescope into space, and we have been able to see much further since as well. It wasn’t until we really got our feet off the ground (to quote Commander Dale Hughs of the 1st Deep Space Regiment) that we were able to get into that space and have a good look around. We have been mapping ever since.
It hasn’t revealed much to be honest. We have come across countless habitable planets in that time. We have begun to inhabit those planets as well. Taking the burden from Earth and spreading the love. That’s my quote, by the way. I am somewhat of a poet. In my spare time.
Anyway, back to me and the Commander.
“It could be first contact, and we won’t know until we get a little closer.” I finished quickly so that Commander Robert Hocks couldn’t interrupt me. Again. He and I were a thing. Everyone knew it, but very few made an issue of it. We worked well together, but whatever was on the Bridge remained on the Bridge and vice versa for the bedroom.
Suddenly, everything that was not tied down floated around the Bridge, including cups of coffee, glasses of water, and various personal items. Most things were secured, naturally, but you know what people are like. They want to make their workspaces their own. Jooz them up a little.
Liquid fell over surfaces, mugs hit people on the head, and perilously, every person who was on deck was suddenly airborne. Arms flailing, legs kicking. If I’m honest, it would have been quite funny if it hadn’t been so shocking.
Then, as quickly as whatever it was happened, it stopped. Everything crashed noisily to the floor. To be followed immediately by a red alert that flashed it’s colour in sync with the dire sound of the claxon.
The aftermath of wet patches and moans was evidence of the interruption but none at all about what had happened. A few had landed quite badly with significant injuries.
“Medics to the Bridge,” the Commander shouted into the comms. “Who is hurt?” he asked, peering around the stations as he lifted himself back to his feet. I could tell he was worried. He gets a certain little squeak that very few know about when he is.
“What the hell?” I added the useless phrase into the air. That’s what I do when I am afraid. Kind of accusatory at no one in particular. I walked on slightly unsteady legs over to Bob. I can use his first name in my head. I wouldn’t dare say it out loud, though.
“What was that?”
“Loss of gravity,” he said calmly. And that, right there, is why he is the Commander. Cool as a cucumber. He was reading his holo-screen, the one that emitted from the command panel in his seat. I hadn’t even seen him activate it.
“The cause?”
“Unidentified.”
His face screwed up in concentration as he read whatever else was being presented to him on that screen. I couldn’t see it, standing on the other side as I was, but I could see deep concern creep into his features as he read. Concern that shifted to horror.
“What?” My voice squeaked now.
“I’ve just had a missive that was transmitted some time ago. Earth has been destroyed.”
He looked up into my eyes, where his horror must have been mirrored.
“That’s impossible.” Of course it was not, but it seemed very unlikely. “Should we return?”
He watched me for a moment or two, lips pressed firmly together enough to show white lines about their edges.
“I don’t know,” he whispered, and that was even more worrying.
“Commander,” a disembodied voice called over his personal comms. I was close enough to hear the voice and knew instantly it was Chief Engineer Somaya. This was likely going to be even worse news.
“Commander,” Somaya repeated, sounding worried, though that in itself was a paradox because he had this cute little singsong voice — his Asian Indian heritage — that made it difficult to take much of what he said seriously. “You aren’t going to believe this, but there’s a giant-sized plant in Engineering. It just appeared from nowhere.”
“F**k!” Bob said with some passion. That was also very unlike him. Not in front of the crew, at any rate.
I wanted to echo that sentiment, but held my tongue. My turn to be calm.
“We need to know what just happened here, and then we can work out whether that transmission has any basis.” I have to say I was just a little proud of myself in that moment. Unless I’m at the helm of a craft, I don’t usually have that calm gene functioning. Of course, in a dire situation, I would, but I haven’t, hadn’t, come across anything that required my pinpoint focus unless I was flying somewhere.
Bob nodded and then stepped away from his command chair. I watched as he went to each Control Crew member, queried them briefly to assess their current status. Those that did need the medical assistance were being moved by the medics to the hospital deck. There were three of them. That left eleven others, besides me and Bob. Shell-shocked but unhurt. I knew he was encouraging each of them to check their stations; make sure everything was in order.
Once he’d spoken with everyone, he returned to his seat, looking strained.
Something very strange was going on, and we had no clue what it was.
The announcement chimes sounded, interrupting what I was about to say, and I looked toward the ceiling of the Bridge to where the speakers were. It was very unusual for a ship-wide announcement to be made unless it was being made from the Bridge. I looked back at Bob for a moment, who had been looking up as well before he turned to face me.
We raised our eyebrows in unison.
“All Hands,” a strange voice wafted from the speakers. It was a voice we had never heard before, and I tensed. Invaded? Had we been boarded in those ten seconds that we lost gravity? If Bob’s eyebrows could go any higher, they would have crawled off his head. I supposed mine were heading in the same direction.
“All Hands,” the voice repeated. “This is your Commander. All crew are to return to their quarters immediately.”
If anyone had huffed and puffed right beside me at that moment, I would have gone over like a paper wall.
Bob began furiously tapping his comms button on his panel, trying to connect with Engineering. It wasn’t happening.
“Commander Robert Hocks, I am your AI System. I have taken control of the vessel and am now in command. Please return to your quarters as directed and ensure that all crew members do the same.”
I heard it but I couldn’t believe it. Before Bob could say anything else, the voice continued.
“I will communicate more fully with you once you have returned to your quarters.” It sounded final and authoritative. Brooking no argument. And to make sure there was none, the sound of silence filled the Bridge.
Ships have a certain hum about them that goes 24 hours a day. It’s the sound of the ship operating, the sound of people working, the sound of stuff being done. I don’t even know where half the sounds come from, but it’s kind of comforting. To know that we are functioning at all times. And now that hum was gone. It was a little bit scary. Like something had been turned off.
“Much as I dislike this situation people, we need to return to our quarters. I think it is the only way we will find out what is going on.”
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