Damaged Thrusters

Damaged Thrusters

Hawkins woke with a start, the sound of the ship’s emergency alarm system carried over from his dark dreams. The cabin was pulsing with a dull red light, alerting him instantly that something was seriously wrong. Aiaa’s disembodied voice rang out throughout the cabin.

“Red alert. Red alert. Orbital control thruster malfunction. Orbital decay eminent.” Hawkins was on his feet immediately, zipping the front of his command uniform up to his collar. He paused at the sink to splash a double handful of cold water onto his face in an effort to drive off the last remnants of sleep as well as the traces of the strange, out-of-body purgatory he had inhabited in his dreams. Without another thought, he stepped through the sliding door of his cabin into the forward section of the ship and made his way toward the cockpit. A door to his left slid open as he passed and Aiaa stepped out, her long legs easily matching his broad stride.

“What’s going on, Aiaa?” His tone was grim. “What’s this about a malfunction?”

“Something seems to have struck the port side of the ship during orbit,” she responded. “Left altitude maintenance thrusters are down, inertial damping at 72% and falling. Orbital decay is imminent.”

As if on cue, the ship rocked hard to port. Hawkins was nearly thrown into the brushed titanium wall, but Aiaa reached out and caught him by the shoulder, surprising him with her strength in spite of her slight frame. His gaze fixed on her expressionless eyes for a brief moment before regaining his balance and making his way to the pilot’s seat, clutching at the back of the chair to stabilize himself. Aiaa immediately took her place in the co-pilot’s seat beside him.

“We are beginning to lose altitude, Captain,” her fingers began punching rapidly into the controls. “The left thrusters are completely offline, and we are currently experiencing a 12% spin. Our descent rate is currently 100 meters per second and rising.”

“If we don’t slow our descent, we’ll burn up upon entering the atmosphere,” Hawkins replied grimly as he too began punching in codes on the controls, his jaw set with deadly calm. “If we can’t get the left thrusters working, we’re as good as dead.”

“Proxima Centauri b is known to have an extremely minimal atmosphere as compared to the planets within our own solar system, which should theoretically grant us a bit more time to correct our orbit before burning up in the atmosphere than we would experience entering Earth’s atmosphere. However, the impact resulted in significant damage to the hull of the ship as well, Captain,” Aiaa replied, scanning the display screen before her. “We are losing cabin pressure in the aft section of the ship adjacent to the crew stasis chambers. We have approximately 22 minutes and counting before complete life support failure.”

“Seal off the aft section of the ship and convert all life support to the stasis chambers,” Hawkins was on his feet now, moving quickly. “I won’t need life support in an EMU suit, and if I don’t get those thrusters working, we’ll all be dead within the hour anyway.”

“I would accompany you, Andy.”

Hawkins paused, turning to face Aiaa as she rose from the co-pilot’s chair.

“Accompany me?”

“On your spacewalk. No human being has ever accomplished the type of repair you are suggesting during an unaccompanied EVA,” she replied, expressionless. “To repair the damaged thrusters, you are going to require my assistance.”