...the last breath...31dec16...

The verge of a cry grew heavy, right above the bridge of her nose, but she refused it.  She had never cried as an adult.  Never cried in Academy.  Didn't cry when her pelvis was smashed in a training accident.  She would not do it now.  She flatly refused.  Limited air.  She knew better than flail her arms.  Time and energy were her world right now.  Distance was a star that she would shoot for.

She was falling, end over end, away from the hull of what once was the Halifax.  Mei was blown clear when the exterior hallways collapsed, depressurized by the explosions of the unknown capital ship.  She could see them now, a brown flat dot in the distance, flaring with a few missile hits, mere dots.  They were 20% declination to 30,0 to the Halifax - a minor blind spot - but an effective one.

First stop momentum.  She poised her body as if she were taking off in a rocket pack from the ground, her hands and feet at a similar angle.  Mei watched the Halifax as it swung out of view.  Easy.  No need to waste air.  The oxygen bag enveloped her body on the abrupt change in pressure from the hallway into space.  It had about fifteen minutes worth of breathable time.  The battery had enough to get her back to the Halifax.  More than likely picked up as a prisoner.  Better than death.

She closed her eyes into squints and focused on her position and fall away from the ship.  She could see others, still in death, floating away.  There was debris.  Chunks of the asteroidic skin that enveloped the capital ship.  Steel.  If one had the chance to hit her, she may as well give up.

Slow.  She released oxygen toward the direction of her spin, easing it out of her hands with a small release button.  Instead of overcompensating the entire spin, she let go of the release once the ship was out of view.  It saved energy.  Energy that was going to be needed to give her momentum back toward the ship.  If she blew it all at once, that was it.

Her Academy drill officer, Andrews, came immediately back.  This will save your life.

Let's see, Andrews.  Mei was calm for being minutes from death.  You have to be.  Living in space for over seven years now, you were only inches from death anywhere on the ship.  This was a war, not a field trip.  Their losses, like the Halifax, would be yet another blow for the Bureaucracy.

After three spins, slowing each time, she made a direct line for herself toward the Halifax.  Escape pods were popping from ventral.  That's where I'll head.

She very easily released more air, this time pushing behind her, toward her legs.  It started to bring her forward, pushing against the initial momentum that led her here.  She did not look behind her, only forward.  She didn't look at how much energy and oxygen were left.  It would be a distraction and panic will make her heart rate soar.

She started to move and felt the cold of space start to creep into the suit.  It was only rated for so much, and it had already gave a lot of itself.  A little more.  Once she felt she had the momentum, she stopped the release.  She slowed her breathing.  The Halifax grew larger.  Fires had broken out all around it.  No large debris seemed to be ahead of her.  She fixed herself to the bottom of the ship and toward the floating pods.  They did not push far from the ship, just close to rely upon the Halifax's incidental gravity.  It must not be in danger of exploding, that is good.  But fire must be the reason the ventral crew left.

Twenty minutes from the ship.  Her air would not make it, but, if she could will herself to pass out, she may make it.  She had a flechette that would knock her out.  She pulled on it from the outside of the suit and it just needed to be pulled away and angled toward the soft of her forearm.  She made sure that she was correctly angled.  One deep breath, and she injected herself.

The cold of the needle and the icy liquid as it ran into her arm was a shock, but only temporarily.  Mei instantly felt the effect of the drug and passed out.  She watched the Halifax and could see the small silhouettes of the crew as they busied themselves in putting out its fires...

abstract: lander in a land strange...

< awake .>
click generator, set to random variance '336'
is necessary in the absence of noise
to keep
to keep, sorry
< record .>< deviate .>
the plasma of a distant discharge is swimming around me
it is something new and strains like strings
in the cabin and a haze variate, like brown fog
pulls around me, only for an instant
enough plasma to pull me into a reverie
its much better
when there is unrestricted lucidity
it goes, and even as it goes and trails away to starboard
lit by the amber light, not the green
it glows even more in glorious brown
(I had almost forgotten it)
I watch it and it is gone as quickly as it came
from which star did it emanate, and how long ago?
< /record .>
was I alive then
did it shine on a world long gone, like the distant parent
I know nothing of
"It is in you."
< /deviate .>
so yes, '336' - it took me three years, but I found values above as unnecessary
values below would sear into your skull after six, seven days
and the clicking is necessary to prevent hardening of the synapses
< timed_manual_action .>
00 00 00 042613 alarm - double click the transponder, someone may hear you
00 00 01 071809 trill - clack on the filter to clear the air
< /timed_manual_action .>
check on the food, check on the water
read, exercise, learn, listen to the tapes
how I wished I hadn't broken the robot
03 01 30 050000 go into sleep again - 23 times now
on my way to Cere 56712, distinctly and statistically "9" - a sure bet
the seeds reproduce, the lamps have held up
the soil is replicated 23 times
I hold the seeds and smell them
they told me that is what I am
"falling from the tree, at the near speed of light, head first, toward the soil"
toward the soil, a space seed
"may you survive, for your sake, for we are now memories only of each other"
the oldest voice was choking on tears
what did he see?
< /awake .>
< play_request. . = 19410978013xtuASA .>