New Flash Fiction

I ran through the glitch list as I watched the medics move off to stage for the entry and realized I needed to man the mag grapple controls. The interface was simple, as the system only needed to be pre-charged, and then activated once the targeting reticle lined up. From there, a system of enormously powerful electromagnets pulled the ships together in the proper alignment for final docking.

“Call it out, Mr. Slidel,” I said as the reticle visibly zoomed out, looking for its target. An orange square appeared around the crosshairs that were always present on the display, indicating the system had found the target and confirmed we were closing on it, but still at extreme range. Had I started the system sooner, it might have been red. Eventually, I should see it turn yellow and then green as we closed.

“Thirty seconds, Captain.”

As if on cue, the block did, in fact, turn yellow. I stabbed at the com panel and triggered the 1MC. “All hands, brace for contact.”

“Fifteen seconds,” Slidel updated.

A bit disturbing to watch, my display twisted and zoomed as it continued to refine its focus on Ticonderoga’s mag grapple receiver. The square around the crosshair started blinking alternatively in yellow and green.

“Ten seconds,” Slidel announced. Under his breath, he added, “I got this.”

I counted down the last five seconds in my head as the square and crosshair turned bright green. The switch made a satisfying click as I engaged the system. “Mag grapple has it from here. Slidel, you have the bridge.”