Life Boat Hatch View
After fire control went down and the fusion plants
quenched, the skipper ordered us to abandon ship. The raiders had caught us
flatfooted with long range cannon fire. We didn't detect the tiny hypervelocity
slugs until it was too late. Then our backup sensors caught the start-up flares
of lurking drone missiles.
I was near midships working on a busted radiator conduit when the first slugs hit. It was like hard hail followed by the banshee shriek of leaking air. The lights flickered and I dropped my tools, heading for my combat station, but I hadn't made it more than a compartment over when the skipper barked his command. The nearest life pod was only meters away.
I crawled in and left the hatch open. The echoes of automatic bulkhead doors slamming against the vanishing air struck me like a funeral drum. Voice shouted on the general channel. I called out my position. No one else came.
The proximity alarm blared. The skipper shouted his final order. Tear globs blinded my eyes, but I punched the buttons to seal and launch the pod.
The missiles hit when I was less than a klick away. I didn't see any other pods.
-- Debriefing statement of Petty Officer Second Class Sandra Ubrnova , MISN, sole survivor of DF007 HMS Procyon - lost off Ganymede, 12 December 2521.
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