Adrift // Breach 1

Fire swirled through the air, pieces of steel and glass rebounding off every surface. Three men floated limply in the rapidly depressurizing command center as a fist-sized hole gave a terrifyingly clear look at the void beyond the hull.

Warning lights flashed, sirens blared. One body began to move slow and awkward in the zero-G. He twisted, hands flailing useless until one slapped the cold metal of a console. Lieutenant Harris groped at the console groggily, his head still ringing with the force of whatever had hit the ship. Through bleary eyes he tried to get his bearings as, up wasn't up anymore, and down was definitely not where it belonged. Gravity had gone out the window, like most of the air was doing now.

Groaning, Harris braced himself against a shredded chair and hauled himself closer to the the nearest panel to have a look, everything was red or flashing, a sign that things had gone sideways something fierce.

"Major?" He called out, directing his attention outward, trying to find the craft's commander. Harris saw him hanging in the air, globules of blood mingling with the glass and metal swirling around him as the open breach continued to pull everything to it.

Harris shoved off of the seat, hands colliding with the dead officer, and pushing him toward the breach. It wasn't the most respectful treatment, but with some awkward wrangling he had the major's body jammed against the breach and being held in place by the vacuum.

He frantically turned, trying to find any other holes, and with the largest offender unceremoniously plugged he could see a stream of smoke spiraling into a torn grate on the floor. Kicking off of the inner wall he sailed through the cluttered module, having to sweep debris out of his path to avoid being cut up on the way.

Once he had braced himself, and pulled the grating cover free he could see the exit wound of whatever hit them... if he'd had a mind to, he could have shoved his arm through it and outside. He didn't though, instead he kicked off, floating to a back wall were emergency supplies were held in a heavy locker. Collecting an oxygen mask and an emergency breach sealant he made his clumsy way back to the shattered hull.

After a few seconds of trying to prime the sealant he pushed the little cylinder into the ragged hole and fired it. The cylinder split and ejected a mass of putty which was joined by a catalyst causing the whole thing to flash-solidify into a hardened mass, sealing the breach instantly. After a few seconds the breach warning ceased, lowering the cacophony of alarms by a notch. He sighed with relief under his oxygen mask, and turned to survey the damage.

Watching the smoke and debris dance around the command module as droplets of blood stained whatever they touched Harris belatedly identified the remains of their communication officer in two places... his lower half hovering by his console, and his upper half turning gruesomely overhead in an eddy of blood and destroyed electronics. Whatever had pierced the hull clearly kept going through the comm officer and his console.

Harris forced himself to look away, turning his attention to the windows and hoping to catch sight of the ship his had been escorting. Looking through the spiderweb of cracks in the double-thick glass he could see the much larger luxury liner starting to roll off of course, a burning hole in its right side. Harris closed his eyes, and pushed down the fear that had been digging into him more with every minute.

If he wanted to live, panicking wouldn't help him.