Houston, we have a problem.

Star chart from an Apollo mission, courtesy of NASA!

Scene: Bridge of a space ship. Crew engaged in tasks. Captain looks on with concerned expression. His second in command reviewing report from instruments.

2nd in Command: I'm sorry, Sir, but I can not locate one in this sector.

Captain: Try again. We must find at least one. We need it!

2nd: Sir, we've run the scan multiple times. We've scanned all sectors with a null result. It is not out there.

Captain sweats and looks increasingly distraught. 

Captain: The equipment, it must be malfunctioning. (Said with increasingly hysterical tone.)

2nd: No, I personally inspected the equipment. It is all running at optimum efficiency. They are not there.

Captain slaps the console before him, narrowly missing buttons and levers. He turns to a Crewman.

Captain: Are you sure there is not at least one in reserve? Even in the emergency capsule?

Crewman looks from Captain to 2nd in Command, clearly uncomfortable. 

Crewman: No, Sir. The supply is exhausted. We have no reserves.

Captain exits his seat, grapples Crewman, and pulls the man so that they're face to face.

Captain: FIND ONE! (Screamed like a madman.)

2nd in Command: Sir! SIR! (Called out with an authoritative tone as he pulls Captain and Crewman apart.)

Captain turns on 2nd in Command, seems ready to fight. Two crewmen come to restrain the Captain.

2nd in Command: I am relieving you of duty, Captain. Report to your quarters.

Crewmen strong arm Captain off the bridge. Captain struggles.

Captain: You can't do this! It's mutiny! (Hysterical screaming)

2nd in Command assumes Captain's position on bridge. He looks grimly ahead.

2nd in Command: And that is it.

2nd in Command sighs and looks down in a brief expression of defeat, looking almost harrowed by it all.

2nd in Command: No more fucks. We're doomed. (Said in a whisper.)

~ END ~