text: Yanking on the handle of the airlock door, you hear the locking mechanism disengage with a satisfying clank. Once inside, you seal it behind you again before proceeding. This last segment of the medical arm lost gravity and life support with the others, but was never exposed directly to space. It seems likely the actual origin of the sabotage was the area you were just in, with the chain of explosions moving from there in the direction of the central part of the station.
  
  There is quite a bit of floating furniture and assorted medical equipment and other clutter to maneuver through, but thankfully there are no major obstacles or...other distractions between you and the turret. You power and arm it, checking the status of the torpedoes and ensuring everything seems to be in working order before giving the others a call. Karoff confirms the gun is online and you begin to make your way back.
  
  You still are struggling a bit to keep your head clear, and begin reading the labels on the doors you pass and counting them too to keep your thoughts from wandering back to the that same place, the stripes of sunlight across the grass, again and again.
  
  What should be door number twenty-eight is open, and when you shine your light inside it falls upon a long white cabinet inside. Particularly, upon the smears of dried blood upon it, one of them a near perfect hand print.
  
  “He was trying to unlock a cabinet but his hands were all torn up.”
  
  You recall Matti’s words from a few hours ago, although with far less clarity and immediacy that that of the woman who so long ago shouted for Zani and Nyla to run to the woods. Is this the room where Markov died?
  > You don't care about any of this anymore.
  Sorrow, anger, and pain still thunder just beyond the edge of your conscious thought. In your eyes, the major failing of the saboteur now was in not blowing this entire station to cosmic dust and sparing you from this brink of madness. You were content in your role before, happy to tirelessly devote yourself to the Order’s interests, and now? You no longer care about what was done here or why. Let someone else figure that out, or not. What difference does it make?
  
  You return to the central complex, making sure not to stare into the abyss this time as you cross it.
  
  “I’m fine,” you say in answer to Hinsman’s look when you enter, brushing past him. Except for the monitors in the main computer room turned command center, the station is once again dark. Somehow this environment seems to magnify the echo of footsteps. Peering around the curve of a corridor, you see another oasis of light washing against a wall; the nursing station where Matti is resting.
  
  You busy yourself the next several hours, putting equipment away, helping Karoff calibrate this or that and keeping watch while he and Hinsman sleep. In the end the power situation means the three of you will only able to get partial shielding up around the non vital sections, which are essentially everything but the docking bay and central complex. Hopefully that will be enough.
  
  Hinsman has already seen to Matti and he and Karoff are having a quick breakfast and complaining about the coffee substitute when the moment arrives. An alert from the computer indicates something just emerged from underspace. The three of you gather in the command center and Karoff quickly locates the ship.
  
  “No affiliation and armed to the teeth. Yep, we got a pirate.”
  
  Hinsman drains his faux coffee and sets the cup aside. “Just one? Shouldn’t be too hard to handle.”
  
  “Yeah, there’s...dammit! You jinxed us. Now there’s two, three...eight on approach. And they’re hard to track.”
  
  “Sensors didn’t pick them up?” you ask.
  
  “The first ship was a carrier. It’s how you disguise the size of your force if for instance, you think someone may have an alert set for anyone exiting underspace.”