I hesitate, wondering why the two familiar-looking droids have just walked past the ship without a glance. Then I remember; Captain James T Kirk and his landing party couldn’t to see our ship when they encountered it on a similar bleak planet.
I’ll have to go outside.
The rear hatch obligingly opens as I approach and I hover in the doorway as the ramp descends. It connects with the sandy surface of the unknown planet with a thud. Artoo’s head spins around to face me, and he utters a surprised ‘bloop’.
‘What is it, Artoo?’ asks his golden-coloured companion, barely glancing in his direction.
The little droid’s head spins around again, making a series of excited beeps causing his companion to turn around.
‘Oh!’ Cee-Threepio’s eyes light up. ‘Master Luke must have sent you to rescue us,’ he says.
And here I was hoping that they would rescue me!
Cee-Threepio’s arms jerk from side to side as trots eagerly towards me. ‘I take it there is a space-craft of some kind behind you?’
Before I have the chance to reply, Cee-Threepio has stepped onto the ramp. He glances over his shoulder. ‘Come along Artoo, don’t dawdle. You don’t want to get left behind again, do you?’
Artoo whoops with mild irritation and clambers onto the ramp.
‘It looks very dark in there, Artoo; you’d better activate your head torch,’ fusses Cee-Threepio. He turns to me. ‘I suppose it’s just a standard transporter?’
I need to take control of the situation.
Once inside, the two droids look at me expectantly. Cee-Threepio is right. The flight deck has become rather gloomy. I glance around at the walls, but they seem solid enough.
‘Is something wrong, Mistress? asks Cee-Threepio. He puts his hand to his mouth. ‘Sorry, we haven’t been introduced! Where are my manners?’
‘I already know who you are.’ I say, managing a grin. ‘I’m Jemma Kirk.’
Our surroundings flicker like a badly-adjusted monitor and the ship lurches disconcertingly. I slide into my seat, gripping the arms. I need help!
Artoo utters a surprised beep and shunts over to the ship’s console where he plugs his scomp link into one of the desktop ports. A moment later he utters a low whistle.
‘He’s says he’s picking up some very strange readings from your ship,’ Cee-Threepio interprets.
Artoo tweets and beeps. Cee-Threepio cocks his head and nods. ‘He says there’s a quantum anomaly, whatever that is.’
With a high-pitched screech Artoo pulls his scomp link from the port. A series of anxious bloops and whistles follow.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Artoo,’ says Cee-Threepio crossly. ‘Somebody’s cat? It sounds like you’ve got your wires crossed.
Then I hear a reassuring sound behind me. I spin around in my seat as a familiar blue box appears.
‘Well I never, what can this be?’ wonders Cee-Threepio.
Artoo makes a chuckling sound followed by what sounds very like a wolf-whistle.
What exactly is a quantum anomaly? And what’s all this about a cat?
How will the Doctor fare in this galaxy far, far away?
Tune in next week for episode 8…
Written in response to a prompt from Susan T. Braithwaite
Genre Scribes Friday Fiction Writing Challenge #51
The challenge this week was torch.
Photo credits: thefactsite.com and character-online.com