There was another boom, and the lights in the ship went out. The room was dark for a few seconds, before the auxiliary engines kicked in.

Captain Morgan Kingsley bit his lower lip and glared at them all.

“What hit us?! We have all enemy ships within our visual range! Nothing fired at us from the front! So what-?!”

Another boom. The lights went out. But this time. They stayed out. The ship’s low whine of engines running no longer existed. It was silent. Everyone holding their breaths. And then. . .

There was another loud boom, and it punched a hole into the left side of the bridge, air escaping out of it.

All around the captain, people gasped and screamed and yelled and choked. The wind whipped the captain as it escape, and he found himself holding his breath.

He fell to his knees and clutched his chest. Struggling and trying not to breath.

Delaying the inevitable.

Loud hissing filled his ears as the last of the air vanished.

And then.

Silence. Delaying the inevitable. The cold of space seeped in, and he could almost feel space radiation tearing through his skin as ice crusted over it.

He couldn’t hold his breath for long.

He would have to breath.

But breath what?

Suddenly, something covered the large, wide hole, and that something let out a hissing sound. And then a cool draft of air rushed in, kissing his face. He heard someone gasp below him, and he gasped as well, without even stopping to think. He could breathe again.

And then he heard coughing below him.

Could the air be poisoned?

Could he be breathing poison air?

But that was all he had time to think before he passed out.

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