Adrift

"No. No, no, no! Damn it!" As the engine gave a final sputter, a shiver of dread trapped me in place. "No, you can't do this!" Hands shaking, I instinctively kicked the engine. No response. My heart sunk to the bottom of my stomach, my sweat turning cold as I sunk to the floor.

Two miles. Two miles, and I'd have been at a refueling station. Two miles and this nightmare would be over. Evading those stupid Starkeepers had sucked up all of the reserves. My hands reached up towards my hair, knuckles slowly clenching. I squeezed my eyes shut.

A shaky sigh, and I was back to my feet. My vision swam, and a pounding in my head drowned out the blaring alarms of the ship surrounding me. I stumbled over to the comms panel, opening the panel beneath it. Surely, I could redirect some of the power?

Not oxygen circulation, needed that. Surely not the gravity... although maybe for a moment... or the lights? I could do without lights, for a bit. Probably. I didn't have time to think about my decision, detaching and reconnecting the wires before I could second-guess myself. Not even a moment passed before I was thrust into pitch black, hoping it was worth it. A few seconds later, the red light of the console flickered to life. Thank the stars.

Okay. I could work with this. The scanner would take too much power, I couldn't search for other ships in case there weren't any. These old dinky things would never be able to reach a main station, though. But if I sent out my message just any which way, it'd just be a shot in the dark. The panic began to rise again. Breathe in. Breathe out. Everything will be fine. I'll be okay. I glanced over my options one more time. Surely there was something to work with here. Maybe with a broader signal, I could get a response and know where to send my SOS call? Worth a try. There was likely no one planetside, so I aimed my signal everywhere but there.

And now it was time for an agonizing wait. The light on the console in front of me my only source of vision, I watched the blinking indicator with fixed eyes, not daring to break my gaze. Agonizing minutes later, my heart skipped a beat as a ping returned. Near directly ahead, I sent a distress beacon their exact direction. Hoping, praying to long-dead gods that they would answer. But I got no sign that my message had even been received, and as time solemnly marched onwards, I felt the tiny glimmer of hope inside of me slowly get crushed.

I couldn't take my eyes off of the console, even as each of the peripheral lights flickered out and died. Only ten minutes later, and the dark encompassed me. Closing my eyes made no difference.

The shadow of the planet shielded me from the heat of the sun, heat that would burn me alive if it were in view, now that my shielding was powering down. It only took a few more minutes for the gravity to go, and the heating not long after that. I wouldn't make another orbit, I realised. I wouldn't see the sun again. It was precious minutes before the oxygen stopped flowing, and I had maybe a minute or two after that. Maybe finding my ship would be the lucky break for some new resource miner, scrapping it for parts. Ignoring my frostbitten body as I drifted past them, bound for the stars.

If I was lucky, they'd never identify my body.