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.”
--- You should have seen my Mom’s face when she came home from the Christmas party. The kitchen counter was completely cleared off, every...
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