The Blinking Emerald Light

Every dial on the dashboard flashed. The sounds of multiple alarms echoed throughout the cruiser’s cabin, screeching urgent reminders of the asteroid she hit in midflight.

Having heard similar sounds during training, she maintained her cool. Took a deep breath. The remaining oxygen in the ship’s tank contained enough to accommodate her near panic.

If she wanted control of where she landed, now was the time to act. The wailing siren drowned out the clacking of her fingers flying across the keypad. An ocean would do nicely. Her boots had been designed to keep her afloat and she was a strong swimmer.

A moment later, the window around her grew dark as a protective shield encased the ship in preparation for a crash landing. Rapidly descending from space felt nothing like a smooth launch. She braced herself. With the landing guard now completely intact, her view of the stars and space outside remained obscured.

The motion didn’t feel like falling, not with the artificial gravity force scrambling with her brain. She was strapped in. It was best to stay there in the meantime. Her landing would be hard.

She wondered if she’d breached a planet’s atmosphere and just how breathable a foreign atmosphere might be when the defensive coating keeping her ship’s inner chamber dark retracted into the storage unit at the hull.

Moonlight streamed in from the window. Clouds surrounded the rest of the sky. Only a star or two peeked out. Night approached. The change of temperature was evident. She felt the difference in the air pressure even from inside the relative safety of her seat.

The hatch above her head was jammed. She tried opening it again. Succeeded only partway. Another few keystrokes confirmed the emergency switch was stuck also.

Unfastening the harness straps holding her in place, she threw more of her weight against the glass overhead. Her suit would protect her when the glass shattered. The ship was totaled anyway. The darkness inside its cabin told her that. While she had some skills as a mechanic, none of the necessary tools were in her limited arsenal.

As she threw all her body weight against the glass, the locking mechanism gave way, allowing her to lift the exit with ease.

She climbed up and out. Her eyes adjusted to the darkening. The atmosphere was familiar. Oxygen rich. She could take off her helmet if she wanted.

The structure outside had seen better days. It surprised her to see it still standing. Half of one side of the storage shed was in dire need of repair and paint. A hint of its former rustic color lined the middle.

Perhaps she’d come across water. The canteen embedded in her suit ran low. The communication chip behind her ear would allow her to understand the sentient inhabitants of this place. She walked in the direction of the other building on the property she’d crashed. It looked like a dwelling with its glass windows and tin roof.

A flash of green coming from the shed caught her attention. As she watched, the flashing continued in a timed manner. Glancing back at the house revealed no signs of life. Nor did she hear any sound. None came from the shed either. The blinking emerald light continued.

It might be a while yet before the rescue party arrived for her. This wasn’t the first time she’d been stranded on a strange planet. During her travels, exploring always showed her new things. She’d make the most of this situation.

Her footsteps were quiet as she walked towards the glow. Green was not so common in space.

The door handle looked like many she’d seen before. She had not expected them to slide open.

What she found inside appalled.

The technology present advanced far beyond what the inhabitants of the Milky Way Galaxy had access to.

Not an animal in sight. The beings in the cages of encased green light tanks pounded against the soundproof casing of their entrapment lined against the lone fully intact wall. A male and a female. Adults of the species.

The others not in the cages she’d encountered before. Organ harvesters intent on making their fortune. Brains were worth the most. Hearts and lungs a close second. Livers and kidneys a sizeable sum as well. They’d disguised themselves to look like members of the race they’d captured. Instead of killing them outright and being on their way, they’d set out to clone them instead.

They had yet to take notice her. Likely wouldn’t if she remained quiet.

She’d contacted no humans but knew they were self-aware. Their lips moved even though she couldn’t hear them as they continued beating their limbs against the green light tanks.

The standard vaporizer on her hip would not free them from their prisons. It would however work on the harvesters. Their particles dissembled as she fired a single shot. Reassembling was possible but not a quick process.

Behind her she heard the sliding of the door. Another organ harvester. An unconscious male was dragged behind one. Not quite an adult but no longer a small child either.

The harvester looked to her, eyes white where a normal human’s irises were and black elsewhere.

With her vaporizer held steady, she fired.

The harvester turned and ran.

The beam from her weapon traveled but the harvester was faster. She’d caught the others by surprise.

She went to the human left behind.

He showed no signs of life. There was nothing she could do for him.

Those who remained imprisoned continued beating against their cells in silence.

Leaving the corpse where he lay, she advanced towards the light cages and debated when to open them.

Her rescue team would arrive soon. A quiet distress signal continued echoing from her ship’s battered hull.

The humans dropped from where they floated when she typed in the obvious code, releasing them.

Whatever adrenaline they’d had while captured seemed to fade.

She turned to leave.

They called out to her.

She understood their language but did not stay.

The intergalactic authorities would need to know about this planet where the criminals had just begun their operations.

Snapping tree branches and crunching leaves alerted her to the direction of the surviving harvester.