Non-erotic story. Any erotic activity occurs after this story ends. I leave it to the reader to draw their own conclusions and imagine that future. You have been warned.
As my consciousness returns, I'm aware of alarms and flashing lights. Something is wrong. I'd like to say I vaulted from the cryo pod, but that didn't happen. In reality, I faceplanted, my legs had not yet decided to listen to the instructions my brain was sending. I laid there for a precious few seconds until all systems were online then stood and slapped the intercom switch on the wall. I'm a med tech. If they thawed me, someone was hurt.
"MT313." I shouted. "Status."
"MT313, we're under attack." A disembodied voice answered. I wasn't sure if it was human or computer. "Decks 3-8 heavily damaged. Deck 9 and 10 have lost life support..." Static drown out any further information and the ship lurched heavily to port, tossing me into a bulkhead.
"Shit." I muttered, picking myself up off the deck. Then I remembered I'm on deck 8. This isn't good! I scrambled back towards my cryo pod to grab my gear when the compartment started to depressurize. Apparently thing are going to Hell much faster than I realized. My only hope of survival at that point was to jump back into the pod. It was fully self-contained. I could run for the hatch, but as badly as we were damaged, I had no reason to believe the next compartment was in any better shape.
The cryo pod closed and sealed as soon as it detected my presence. Once pressurized I was in my own little survival bubble.
"Computer, status." I barked, activating the emergency communication panel.
No answer.
"Computer, STATUS!!" I screamed, like shouting at an inanimate object would somehow cause it to respond. Oddly, it did.
"MT313, ship is without drive, gravity is failing. Life support at 35% and falling due to multiple hull breeches." It spat out info in its usual dispassionate voice.
"Crew status?" I asked. The answer chilled me to the bone.
"No life forms detected." It stated.
In actuality, there was at least one, me, but in its twisted logic, since I was conversing with it, my life was a given.
"Any other ships close?" I asked.
"All other vessels destroyed." It said.
"Enemy ships?" I probed.
"Error 566. Query redundant." It said.
So we'd finally done it, obliterated each other. Well fucking three cheers for us.
"Where are we?" I inquired.
"2381.56 lightyears from point of origin." It answered.
Point of origin, I remembered sadly. That was home. It was gone now along with everyone on it most likely. As I had no way to return, that question would remain forever unanswered.
We inhabited the fourth planet in our star system. We called it Eahdahn. As we progressed technologically, we became aware of the fifth planet also being inhabited. Much later, we learned it had a name, Saadaahym.
In time, our two civilizations met. It did not go well. We have been at war for over 3000 years.
I little over 15 years ago, we developed a technology that would destroy all life on any given planet, with firm conviction to use it on our adversaries. Little did we know, they had spies. It was now a race to see who could annihilate the other faster. We both lost.
Before our worlds were completely ruined, we flung what was left of ourselves into space in anything that would fly. We needed a new world in order to live. So did they. Survival of our races was far from assured, still we didn't learn. We could have gone different directions. Space is huge, there was room, but no, we had to hunt each other. How much more death would be required before we said enough?
The war continued. Over time both sides took severe losses. We were down to half a dozen ships and by our best guess, they were in no better shape. With this last skirmish, it seems, the war is finally over. All the ships had escape pods. Maybe a few made it out, but since the computer indicated it found no life forms, that is probably unlikely.
Before they froze me, we were heading for a star system. The third planet looked promising. It was slightly smaller than our world, but had abundant water and the temperature and atmosphere were within limits.
"Computer, how close are we to target?" I inquired. Maybe, just maybe, I might catch a break.
"In the gravity well of target." It stated. "Orbit decaying, impact with surface in 1 hour 14 minutes and 6.985 seconds."
So much for luck. FUCK!!
With the help of the computer and what few automated systems that were still functioning, I managed to regain at least some control of the ship. We were still going to crash, but with the help of the gravity dampeners in the cryo pod, I might yet walk on that new world.
With less than 30 minutes before landing, hey, I can dream right?, I keyed the pod and initiated stasis. The only way I'd know if it worked was if I ever woke up again.
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