E-8-1-5

[HugoLuman]

 

During its standard operation, a certain small corporate station

was marked "potential situation" when it failed to reply.

Shortly before its shift transition, the crew reported a strange transmission

and, all signals ceasing repetition, CC decided that something had gone awry

 

An ERT, code Amber, with a squad containing just five members

was put together, dispatched, and ordered to report in when they arrived.

Precisely two minutes later, receiving a ping from the team's locator,

CC confirmed their arrival on the NSS Maldive.

 

After reporting their position, the team began upon their mission,

locating the senior comms technician, who seemed disoriented but alive.

Assessing his condition, they then questioned the technician

about the contents of the strange transmission.

He replied, simply, "E Eight One Five"

 

Following this information, the team then broke their formation,

spreading out across the station to see who had survived.

In their initial impression, they noted no signs of accident or aggression,

aside from some atmospheric decompression along the starboard side.

 

In the office of the Chaplain, Sgt. Ellen discovered the Captain,

attention rapt in his laptop with glazed, unfocused eyes.

When she asked him to recount completely the events of that week he

only muttered, weakly, "E Eight One Five..."

 

Finding the Bridge door sitting open, yet with no signs of being broken,

Lt. Graves began the motion of scouring the room.

His cursory glance showed all intact, the contingency folders still neatly stacked,

and contact with the station's networks showing from banks of screens in the gloom.

 

Lt. Graves informed his team, "I've got the Crew Monitor up on the screen,"

And from what could be seen, all personnel were still alive.

And yet, though no one was dead, no names could be read,

as all entries instead displayed "E-8-1-5"

 

The crew was discovered, altogether, standing clustered,

gathered in the bar, staring slack-jawed at the wall.

Drinks sitting unattended on the table, and something strange upon their labels

Sgt. Abel noticed, and on the sign out in the hall.

 

In fact, on closer examination, every text on the station,

bore a rather similar notation, the team soon realized.

Signs, doors, posters, vendors, papers and their folders,

Even the breakroom toaster were all similarly inscribed.

 

The starboard master atmos gauge, the local newscaster homepage

The HoP's recorded age, and the engine SMES of the Maldive

Every value, every string, every single written thing

now showed only "E-8-1-5"

 

[HugoLuman]

(To be finished later)

[Fruerlund]

Exciting stuff!