text: The crew all were shrouded by the deep red of the emergency lights. The sirens weren’t blaring because the precious air they needed to do so was in short supply. There was a crack somewhere. The pressure had fallen so sharply, so suddenly that it had to have been a hit from something. Something had been whizzing through space for who knows how long only to slice open the ship. They’ll undoubtedly find it somewhere. Alex chirped through the radio “Everyone okay?” There was a round of yes’s and she turned to the main console. There was a large, damning alert on the screen: “Hull breach. Ship integrity: falling. Air pressure: falling. Power: falling. Procedure... calculating.” Alex knew there was no calculating this; it was obvious what had happened and what could be done about it. She turned to her crew and calmly asked Pat to come to the console and stay in radio contact. She gave the rest of the crew a reassured smile and slipped toward the back. She pulled her way through the ominous craft toward the airlock. It hissed open and closed behind her as she stepped in. She wrestled a tool kit from the wall and took a deep, calming breath before opening the door in front of her. The deep bleakness, unyielding and unrelenting and unmerciful, yawned before her. The odds of something crashing into her ship were astronomical, but if it happened once, chances were high it could happen again. Alex swung her head out of the doorway, like looking both ways before crossing the street, and took a timid step outside, holding on to the metal ladder that ran the length of the ship. She made her way aft where there was an outboard light, blinking slowly. Alex thought through the long, slow crawl about what she thought had happened. A piece of debris has punched a hole in the hull of her ship, hit something and either ricocheted, destroying everything back there, or, she hoped, had hit a water line causing it to spray on the alarm system, causing a short in the electrics back there. The chances of that were slim. She also thought about what she would need to do to remedy the situation. She had tools to cut away mangled metal, patches to cover holes from 1 mm to several centimeters. She had epoxy and pipe patches. She had a blow torch. She was sure she had everything she needed to fix any problem. The climb was slow but she knew she had at least a few minutes of oxygen in her tank and the CO2 exchanger seemed to be working. All she needed was a calm steady hand and she had a couple of those. She reached the hull and was surprised to see a hole slightly larger than her fist in it. Peering in gave her a little bit of relief. There was a sizable hole, and it looked like a secondary computer had been smashed a bit but everything else looked safe. Looking through the hole she could see that the door’s locking mechanism worked perfectly, welding itself shut once the pressure began to destabilize. The wrecked computer was what had probably sent the rest of the ship into emergency floodgate protocol; releasing all the internal gas out into the void. It was a safety precaution, in case the oxygen was contaminated with some space virus or if there was a fire inside. It was an old protocol but no one argued its practicality. Alex clutched a rung of ladder and reached for her tool kit. She pulled out a large circular metal plate and a gun filled with a metallic caulk. She laid a bead slightly larger than the hole all around the plate and smashed it down on the ship, covering the hole. She took out her plasma torch and began melting the plate just enough to meld the outermost edge of the plate to the ship. While the torch labored, a small light began to glint off of Alex’s visor. She didn’t think much of it, shrugging it off to the torch light. When she had finished and set the torch aside, the slight glint was still visible. She turned her head to see a line of bright light stretching all the way across her field of vision. It was completely static but she couldn’t seem to focus her eyes on it, only if she looked at it indirectly could she see what it was; a wave. Alex scrambled, unsure of how much time she had before this wave of force thrashed on her and her ship. Her breath quickened and her once placid movements were now economical and frantic. She grabbed her tools and began moving down the ladder toward the airlock, skipping rungs. She could now plainly see that the wave was getting closer, the light getting brighter. She grabbed a rung and flung herself down, toward the door, and then she noticed something that she had forgotten. She never managed to clip herself to the ship. She had no safety net to grab her if the worst were to happen. She quickly grabbed at a rung but fumbled due to the speed and her bulky gloves. She floated closer to the door and managed to land a single hand firmly on the last rung. Her body swung as her momentum tossed the rest of her body forward, her feet flying over her head. It might have looked funny had it not been such a horrifying moment. Alex caught her breath for a second, relieved that she had a grasp on the ship, on “firm ground”. Then the wave hit. If she had been closer to the ship it might have rolled right over her, but she was basically vertical, perpendicular to the craft and thus a very broad target. She gritted her teeth closed her eyes against the punch to her gut. When she managed to regain her breath she opened her eyes only to see that her hand was no longer on the ladder. The ship was floating away. She could see through the small windows on the bridge the crew working on the computers, redirecting power, too busy to notice she had lost her grip. She tapped on her helmet and whimpered into her mic “Mayda, Mayday, hello anyone? I’m not tethered. I repeat I am no longer on the ship”. She could see through the window as no one reacted. “Again mayday, mayday this Alex Pattinson, I am adrift, I repeat I am adrift”. Still no response. She scrambled to find what the issue was when her heavy breathing began to fog her visor. She started to feel a chill as she noticed that her heating was offline. She turned her receiver on and didn’t even get static. She tried checking her vitals through the suits apparatus but there was nothing. Her suit’s wiring had been fried by the wave that had hit her. She cried. Her mind raced. She screamed. Then she caught her breath and stilled herself. The ship wasn’t too far away, maybe a few dozen yards. She still had her tool pack with her. A plan began to emerge. He breath quickened but she managed to stifle it a little. She had no idea how much oxygen she had left and she was going to need it. She turned to face the ship and started rifling through the various tubes and wires that she could reach. She knew exactly where the components she needed to manipulate were. Using her plasma torch, she would score a tiny hole in her oxygen tank which should have enough pressure to push her back to the ship. However she didn’t want to fly past it so she would have to quickly cover the hole back up. She grabbed the epoxy from the pack and held it in her free hand. She put the torch under her armpit and felt around for the correct tank. If she got it wrong, well she wouldn’t be able to complain about it for very long. She ran through the components of her suit: warning system, pump, water, main oxy, main life support, containment, battery, secondary oxy. She went back to her primary oxygen tanks and brought a shaky torch to it. She held the epoxy in her other hand ready to cover the hold she was about to make. She breathed a couple more breaths very slowly and steeled herself. She took one last gulp of air, like it was the most precious thing in the world and it was being given away for free. She sparked the torch for just a second. No change, it must not have gone through. She sparked it again and felt herself jerk forward. In the confusion, or in just the horror of the moment, she forgot which hand she had the epoxy in and struck up the torch again but only for a second. Still, it was enough to cause her to spin a little. Correcting herself she stuffed the epoxy gun right where she had the torch and shot the whole canister. She was moving toward the ship, quicker than she wanted but it shouldn’t be a problem. The problem was the slight rotation she had. The extra push was pulling her shoulders down and to the right slightly. She spread her arms as wide as she could hoping to counter the effect even just a little and it managed to slow her a bit, but it was still too much. At this rate her back would be to the door when she reached it. She pulled her arms and legs in as tight as she could, causing her to spin faster. When she felt that she was upside down she unwrapped herself and waited as the ship slowly came back into view. As she approached she saw in the windows the crew was hard at work when Charlie looked out to see Alex making her way back toward the ship. She could see his astonishment and pallor when he recognized her troubling predicament. She was just happy that someone saw her coming. She motioned, a knock on her helmet, that her radio was out and then pointed to the airlock. Charlie nodded and quickly ran from the window causing the rest of the crew to look out the window and witness their captain.