Brian was in the library when the alarms went off. The holographic book had dissolved in his hands and he had found himself facing a monitor. Snow covered the text, which flickered a few times, then shrunk into a small square in the center of the screen.
"Neil?" said Brian. "There's something wrong."
There was no answer.
That was odd.
Brian punched randomly at the keyboard. Maybe those F buttons along the top would do something. No. He had never understood these things.
"Neil?" he called again. "Is everything all right?"
And the alarms started.
Damn, I'm not armed, Brian thought. He ran to the door, but it didn't open.
"Neil!"
Brian didn't expect a response anymore. He broke the door down with his chair and ran into the hall. Nobody was there. The main lights were out and the corridor was lit only by the flashing alarm. Red. Black. Red. Black. Steam was pouring into the hall. Brian struggled toward his room.
"We're under attack." Neil's voice sounded sluggish. Like he had a cold and had overdosed on Tylenol 3 with codeine. "They've gotten in."
"Who has?" Brian knew he had to arm himself quickly, and plan his defense. For that he needed knowledge.
"Like, I dunno. It all happened so fast..." Neil trailed off. Great. Then Neil spoke again. "I'm transporting you to safety."
"No you're not!" Brian retorted. But Neil had already acted. Brian was muttering something that sounded vaguely like Latin. Vaguely. He flickered briefly, disappeared, then reappeared, a little thin, then regained his characteristic solidity. "Non purgem Brianus," he finished.
"I'm gonna, like, have to shut myself off. So stop resisting."
"Neil," said Brian slowly, "you are my only friend on this ship, and I will NOT abandon you. Don't forget to backup before you turn yourself off, and I will protect you while you are defenseless."
"Uh, ok."
And everything went off.
And it was very dark.
And very quiet.
And Brian wondered how long the air would last.