Brace for Impact

“Brace for impact!”

T minus 5 seconds… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Commodore Nathan Lewis of Starfleet Command felt his shuttle bump roughly against the invading Narian Mothership, on organic monstrosity that literally pulsed like an overgrown heart.

“Ready your weapons, men! These Narian scum will not take Alpha Centauri!” He roared as the shuttle doors zipped open, revealing a long, winding passageway occupied with Narian soldiers. They opened fire at Nathan and his assault force; sizzling green streaks of light swatting the metal around them and showering Nathan in sparks. Nathan retaliated in kind, firing from the hip and spraying the hall with countless bullets.

Two Narians fell, gaping holes in their chest oozing yellow blood and dripping to the floor. The remaining two followed, their heads missing from their torso. Nathan commanded his group to split into two forces, one to follow him and the other to circle around the other side of the ship. Lifting his weapon to his shoulder, he proceeded down the corridor at a cautious pace, watching for any sudden movement.

Bzzt. Nathan, Command wants you back on Space station Pythagoras this instant!

“Huh? I’m currently busy right now, if you haven’t noticed-.”

Bzzt. Nathan Lewis, I need you to solve this problem!

“What? What’s-.”

“NATHAN!”

Nathan bolted upright, his shaggy blond hair whipping behind him in response. Quickly wiping the drool off his hand, he answered. “Yes Mrs Lowenstein?”

“Since you found it appropriate to doze off during class, I assume you must know all this already! So please, enlighten the class with the answer to question three-c.”

Fear gripped Nathan as he opened his book and attempted to bluff his way through class for the third time. “Uuhh… Three-c…three-c three-c… umm…” He looked up at his teacher expectantly.

“Page two forty-five, Nathan.”

“Ah yes, of course.” He turned to the correct chapter and read the question. Simple.

For someone that was paying attention.

“Ah, there it is. Ok, well, it-.”

“We’re waiting, Nathan.”

To Nathan, the question seemed like a jumbled mess of numbers and letters in italics, with some lines in between that couldn’t be typed on a standard keyboard. Other than that, he knew absolutely nothing.

Cold sweat erupted from his pores and caused an unpleasant itch behind his back and on his arms. He looked at the board, trying to grasp at least a rudimentary understanding of what they were doing. All he saw were more numbers and letters.

With a defeated sigh he lowered his gaze and spoke to the table. “I don’t know.”

Mrs. Lowenstein, satisfied with her success, simply nodded and replied “Maybe that should teach you to pay more attention.”

Nathan nodded and stared at the board.

Can’t win them every time, Nathan. Commodore Lewis will just have to wait.