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Put on a brave face and pilot into the meteor field. |
Clunky goggles cover her eyes and a band keeps the stray curls from her face. A harness keeps her strapped to her chair. The straps are broad and chafe uncomfortably through her flight suit, but she doesn't take the time to shift them. There is no time. One hand has a white-knuckled grip on her joystick and the other flies across the control panel, removing the auto-pilot. The sea of black ahead of her ship is littered with meteoroids. Large chunks of debris suspended in cold nothingness, stretching beyond sight into the void. Her ship is rocked by another strike from the Atropos and she knows. Jord’s outdated cannons fire back, but she knows. She glances around the cockpit and focuses on her painted forest, a tribute to her own planet. Her eulogy to the beautiful, life-bearing planet- finally succumbed to pollution and war- Earth. She stares at the trees, a cover for the many animals she has added over the years, and at the lioness crouched next to the portal- its amber eyes narrowed, lips drawn back into a snarl. She knows. Her voice echoes over the loudspeaker, "This is your Captain speaking. Strap your asses down." |