The cockpit
is cold. Icy cold. We’ve taken too many hits and Space is
unforgiving. The instruments have started
shutting down.
My navigator
breathes heavily. He hasn’t had the training. Doesn’t know how to fight the lack of oxygen.
“Hang in
there, buddy,” I say, but I’m trying not to panic. I’ve seen this before in the vids: we freeze
without shields.
We’re
heading for the planet. The fleet’s too
far to offer salvation.
He’s shaking, suffocating.
The
atmosphere is thick. We’re going to
burn.
He turns to me. Eyes wide.
“I’m sorry.
So sorry. May God be with you.”