The engineering station was lit up like tiki dance floor. The bridge quaked as the Amethyst was hit again.
“Hull breach,” cried Nevil, “and i believe we lost our last turret. We’re defenseless!”
Locke wiped sweat from her brow, “Tell me what IS working, goddamnit!”
LT relayed the query to the engine room, and his face wrinkled, “Thrusters? Maybe – we’re dead in the water here. We may have 15 minutes of life support left.”
“We have to land this bird,” nevil suggested expectantly, “we can stay here – we’ve done what we said we’d do, now it’s time to save our own asses.”
“By landing on Sirius? I’d hardly consider that ‘safe’,” Locke snorted, “Maneuver us into a deorbiting posture, and get everyone out of the lower-decks – this is not going to be pretty!”
LT’s voice was tight over comms, “Preparing for emergency landing, anyone wishing to live better get their asses out of decks 14 through 20. Get to high-ground people, we’re going down!”
“Give me the Gemstone!”
“Go!”
“You owe me TWO bottles, now”