Where Were You
13 Jun 2017Leon Falkner
Qa’wakama SystemCaprini Station
Hangar 22
19:34
Leon sat in the cockpit of his Cobra, feet propped up on the opposite flight chair, idly scrolling through GalNet and other such nonsense, his newly-calibrated speakers blaring out some ancient song that suited his fancy at the moment. Something from Earth’s old days, 20th century American. He was a sucker for the classicals, what could he say?
There was a light flashing on the comm panel to his left. Probably just system chatter, the thing had been going off non-stop since he got here. He pulled up a station services search, wondering what he’d eat before heading out for his bounty run tonight.
That’s when he saw the headlines.
At first he blinked, checking the console to make sure he’d gone to the correct address. It looked like some space-addled conspiracy site. But the Inara service header was there, right at the top. His appetite evaporated, replaced with that feeling of freefall when you entered gravity after a long spaceflight. A few quick gestures, and he brought the images onto the main screen of the ship.
He stared at them, unmoving, unblinking. The wrecks of the Federal Interdictors floated in space, torn to shreds and surrounded by strange green glowing gas. One image got the ID of the craft, scarred and scorched by unknown weapons fire: FDN-RD5. It wasn’t fake. It was real. This was really happening.
Were his hands shaking? The music in the background was forgotten, and he scoured the sites where the news headlines were spreading like wildfire. The news vids were all speculative, no one really knew what was going on; panic was spreading, and he could understand why. He wanted to ask someone what he should do? What could anyone do now? What was going to happen next?
The music in the cockpit echoed, the warbling voice of dead women sang out as the screens filled with images of destruction and death.
Nowhere to run to, baby, nowhere to hide
Got nowhere to run to, baby, nowhere to hide...