The Lonely Whoosh of Space

“Captain, we’ve got a hole the size of an asteroid near Quadrant 25,” said Bill Veruck. “Captain?”

The Captain, the very man who took Bill under his wing some time ago, and who was grooming Bill to someday be captain of his own ship, lay motionless on the floor. “You’ll do great things someday, son,” the captain had always said. He never thought someday would be today.

Bill paused briefly to pay his respects then grabbed the intercom and buzzed Quadrant 25.

“Seal off that gap people. We’re losing air fast.”

All Bill heard in response was the lonely whoosh of space.

Bill’s heart dropped as he realized that he was now very alone on a disabled starship, stranded in the middle of nowhere. Maybe cruising through dangerous airspace with only a five person crew was a bad idea, Bill thought to himself as he made his way toward Quadrant 25.

Bill cursed his luck. Oxygen level 35 percent and dropping and he was going to be late for his date, a pure violation of rule #1: never keep a cute blonde waiting.

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