A crackle came over comms. Lucy worked her fingers over the LCD -touchpads, tweaking the signal. The crackles became a voice.
It faintely spoke, “Amethyst. Stand down, and do not approach … Static field .. ” the channels whined, as Lucy tried to clean the call, ”.. Hole to outter .. Request Tem… scans.
“Repeat.. not approach,”
Silence.
Locke tore her eyes away from the ailed ship and looked towards the comm-station.
Said Lucy, “the channel is dead.”
“Captain?” the navman, Karapanov, said, “Look’a this!”
Intrigued by her crewman’s tone, Locke hurried to his side, “What d’you got?”
“A blank NSAT screen, cap!”
Locke doublechecked, “What the…?”
“Aye, Cap.. we can see her plain as day,” Karapanov waved a frustrated had at the viewscreen, but according to Nav Signal Acquitions and Telemetry, there’s nothing out there; not a blip.”
“Are you saying they’re not there?” Lucy asked, “I’m not the only one hearing voices am I?”
The weapons officer concured, “I’ve lost lock, cap. There’s nothing there!”