by T. Wesley
“It’s never where you need it,” he said out loud, knowing nobody else could hear him. He’d given the order to abandon ship an hour ago.
Wondering about that old captain-goes-down-with-the-ship adage, Robinson keyed the microphone and said to space, “This is FS Europa, our situation is untenable and we will impact in two hours. Crew has abandoned ship.” He rummaged around under the console, found a wrench, and smashed the transmitter/speaker assembly. Better to ride it out in silence than listen to weak messages of condolence.
Robinson was sure the crew would be picked up; experienced fast-transport crews don’t grow on trees after all. He’d distributed the cargo among the escape pods—a captain’s responsibility isn’t just to the crew. The bottom line is of paramount importance.
Checking the panels in the vain hope that the engines had come back online—thinking somehow the damage from the meteorite strike would magically repair itself—he eased out of his seat and made his way to the galley. The crew left just before a meal cycle and he hadn’t eaten since the collision the day before. He decided now was as good a time as any to have a solid meal. Doing the dishes was a little pointless, he thought, but once a captain, always a captain.
As his ship floated into the star at a million miles an hour, Robinson thought Epsilon Eridani had never looked so beautiful.
1 comment:
I like your story very much. Could feel the resignation overpowering any fear the captain may have had. Nice.
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